Literature, Smut, and Adult Themes
by Will Ganymede
Summary: Warning: SMUT! This is a story about Harry and Draco's relationship, throughout all of the books, told by the deleted scenes from JK Rowling's writing. Now in the Goblet of Fire the end part H/D at its core but many other pairings...
1. Chapter 1: Family

**DISCLAIMER: I make absolutely no money from these writings, and I fully recognize JK Rowling's intellectual property as being hers alone.**

**This is a story about Harry and Draco's relationship, throughout all of the books, told by the deleted scenes from JK Rowling's writing. First comes Literature (extrapolating the story of boys falling in love), then comes Smut (at the same time as the Lit...and there is going to be plenty of it), and finally we see Adult Themes (you figure this one out).**

**Starting with meeting Draco in Madam Malkin's Robes. Italics are actual passages from the book.**

_Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve._

"_Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."_

_In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length._

"_Hullo," said the boy, "Hogwarts too?"_

"_Yes," said Harry._

"_My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."_

_Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley_ for an instant, before he realize a salient fact: this other boy, with a family and apparent wealth, was talking to him as if they were equals. He had begun talking to Harry because he wanted to (apparently), and for the first time in his life, Harry felt like he could make a friend of his own; Hagrid was a friend, true, but not a school friend of his own age.

"_Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on._

"_No," said Harry_. Not wanting to impart his unusual upbringing, Harry tried to make his voice carry a note of "Oh, no, I don't currently have a broom, but will get one soon". He didn't know why, but he began to feel like he ought to impress the other boy, and tried to keep level with the following conversation.

"_Play Quidditch at all?"_

"_No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch was. _However, he quickly covered by adding, "well, not really..."

"_I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"_

"_No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute. _

"_Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"_

"_Mmm" said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting._

"_I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding towards the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice-creams to show he couldn't come in._

"_That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased _to finally have the upper hand. With his best 'didn't you know that?' voice, Harry continued, _"He works at Hogwarts."_

"_Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"_

"_He's the gamekeeper," said Harry_, smug in the knowledge that he again knew more.

"_Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."_

"_I think he's brilliant," said Harry _in a small voice. Though he was a bit upset over the other boy's rude opinions, he felt bad for him in a way; he had not known Hagrid – had only _heard_ about him – and he felt that, given the right circumstances, the boy might like Hagrid. He didn't know why he had such faith, though.

"_Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"_

"_They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy._

"_Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"_

"_They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."_

"_I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"_

_Before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry_, slightly unhappy to see him go, waved goodbye.

Watching the boy leave the shop, Harry was left with a thousand thoughts. Foremost was the vision of parents; after hearing the talk about shopping and family life, Harry couldn't help but feel sort of jealous of the boy. For a brief moment, while Madam Malkin was finishing up his robe, he began to think about sharing ice cream with his dad instead of Hagrid, or having his mother finishing trimming his robes instead of an unfamiliar store clerk. Though he didn't really have an image of them in his head, he was nevertheless comforted by the idea of parents.

Secondly, Harry ran over his conversation with the boy in his mind. During the entire time, the boy had been actually _interested_ in Harry, asking questions and giving a bit of advice. Though he was horribly stuck up, the boy was actually kind of likeable (in Harry's opinion). He hadn't bullied Harry, though he could have, and he appeared to be stating stale opinions from his parents (without his heart in any of them).

With these thoughts and more, Harry _hopped down from the footstool_ and walked out the door.


	2. Chapter 2: Intrigue

Starting with Chapter Six when Malfoy exits Harry's train compartment (PS)

Draco was furious. No one had _ever_ turned down Draco _Malfoy_ on any offer of friendship in his life! Didn't Potter know who he was, who his father was?

Though the prat had more fame and recognition than he did, Draco couldn't help but feel that he was equal, if slightly superior, to Potter. They could've made friends, Draco could've added the famous Harry Potter to his list of allies, and he probably would've been able to impress his father by making so gracious a connection so early in school.

_But no!_ Because of Potter's stupid friend, Draco was forced to retreat from a battle without having accomplished his goal, which ran counter-intuitive to everything he had ever been taught. This pissed Draco off to no end, and for the rest of the train ride he demanded that Crabbe and Goyle stand outside and leave him to his solitude.

His father had taught him to punish those that offended him; now, Draco decided that he should now follow that advice.

But how? He could physically hurt him (well, not by him, but Crabbe and Goyle could pummel Harry). Or, he could wage an emotional war, berating him whenever he could – he had had plenty of experience with that towards house elves and mudbloods in the past, and it worked quite well.

No...no...no...Draco realized that he couldn't pass a million insults onto Potter, if they had any hope of ever reconciling and becoming allies. He couldn't say why, but Draco could not push out the desire to get to know Potter better. For some reason, the other boy intrigued him beyond all the others that he had met so far.

But why did he feel this way? Still fuming, Draco began running down the list of what Potter was to him...handsome, for a boy; rich, for his father had told him that the Potters had been almost as rich as them in their prime; talented, for who else could defeat the Dark Lord when still an infant? More importantly, though, Harry was someone that he actually liked because he was unique and different from all those that he had known in the past. He wasn't a pretentious prick, and to be honest, his humility was a bit endearing.

_Perhaps_, Draco thought whilst staring out the window, _I'll let him know just what he's missing_. _That's it! Once Potter sees all that I have to offer him, he'll never want to be friends with the Weasel again._

***And so it begins***


	3. Chapter 3: Erection

Starting after Neville is taken to the hospital wing (post-broom accident). Italics are passages from the book...Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I MAKE ABSOLUTELY NO MONEY FROM ANY OF JK ROWLING'S WORKS AND WORDS FOLLOWING. THESE WORDS in italics ARE NOT MINE, AND ARE THE INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY OF JK ROWLING.

_No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter._

"_Did you see his face, the great lump?"_

_The other Slytherins joined in._

"_Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil._

"_Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati."_

"_Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."_

_The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up_; as best he could, Draco pointed it towards Harry, taunting him with what he could do.

"_Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped to watch._

_Malfoy smiled nastily._ He could see anger burning in Potter's eyes, and it only provoked Malfoy further and further. Smiling, Draco realized that he now had his opportunity for revenge from the train, and the ability to show off to Potter.

"_I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?"_

"_Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt on to his broomstick and taken off _with the skill and accuracy of year and years of practice. _He hadn't been lying, he could fly well – hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"_

_Harry grabbed his broom_; this was now going too far. More and more, Malfoy began to move away from the persona of an intriguing prick and into another Dudley, in Harry's mind.

"_No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."_

_Harry ignored her_; this was personal._ Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared, air rushed through his hair and his robes whipped out behind him – and in a rush of fierce joy he realised he'd found something he could do without being taught – this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron._

_He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in mid-air. Malfoy looked stunned_ – and yet, intrigued at the same time.

"_Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"_

"_Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking _impressed.

_Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leant forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands and it shot towards Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about turn and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping._

"_No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called._

_The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy_, but it did not faze him much.

"_Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air_, as far away as possible. With delight, he watched Potter do an about face and fly the other way.

In order to throw, Draco had had to completely lean forward, thrusting his body against his broom; in return, something extraordinary happened. For the first time at school, Draco felt his dick go hard. He hadn't noticed until he pressed his wood against the broom, but ever since Potter had flown up and given chase, he had been hard.

Though he had, like every male in his life, had an erection before then, he had never really known why it happened. His father used the term 'erection' once in explanation, but said that it was filthy and wrong to be discussed outside marriage. This time, he knew that watching Harry challenge him had for some reason given him this erection.

As Harry flew off, Draco slowly leaned down onto the broom again, rubbing his cock against the broom yet again. It felt incredibly good, and though he knew he had to get down immediately, he couldn't stop his hips from gradually humping the broomstick. A pleasure unlike any that he had ever felt before flooded him as Harry managed to spectacularly catch the Remembrall, but Draco knew he had to stop.

Careful to avoid further contact, he aimed the broom down and lifted his hips up, soon meeting up with Crabbe and Goyle.

To be honest with himself, he didn't think that the erection was a bad thing, but he did not dare allow anyone else to know that he had one at the moment. Thus, he jumped off the broom and into a sitting position, allowing the folds of his robes to cover up his embarrassment. No one asked him why his cheeks were flushed, simply chalking it up to the Potter confrontation, and luckily, once Harry left, Draco's erection died.


	4. Chapter 4: Showering

Starting after Harry wins the game...nearing the end of Chapter 11 (PS)

Just a warning: this is Harry/Oliver (continuity requires it), and my first published smut; be kind, eh!

"_I've got the snitch!" [Harry] shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion._

"_He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference – Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the result – Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was_ with Hermione and Ron on the pitch, as the rest of the teams went to their showers.

"Congrats, mate," Ron smiled as he patted Harry on the back. Hermione gave him a small hug, careful to keep herself clean, before commenting, "You need a shower, Harry."

"No I don't – I'm fine," Harry said, much more eager to think about the game and talk with his friends again.

"Listen, Harry," Hermione used a stronger tone this time, "we have important information to tell you, but we can't talk about it here; we need to go to Hagrid's."

"So let's go!" Harry smiled.

"But you can't just go wondering around all dirty – it would be suspicious. You _need_ a shower"

"Yeah, she's right," Ron piped in, "whenever Fred and George don't shower, they just stink up any room they visit. We'll see you at Hagrid's, okay?"

"Fine," Harry grumbled, and slowly walked into the Gryffindor change room.

He was careful to walk slowly, though time was of the essence. He felt very apprehensive about taking a _communal _shower, for he had never been in one before, and had never seen anybody else naked – ever. Though he knew that the girls were segregated from the boys, and that houses did not share change rooms, he could not help but feel scared from the pressure of three older boys.

Much to his surprise and relief, though, Fred and George burst into the lockers section, dressed only in large white towels; their hair was wet, and Harry correctly assumed that they had already showered. However, he waited until they left to peel off his sweaty Quidditch gear and get nude. He heard a shower running all throughout his strip, and felt nervousness creep into his mind. Only one person could be left – Oliver Wood – and Harry considered for a moment washing in the sink.

If asked, Harry couldn't have really explained his anxiety; he would just shrug and say something along the lines of "first time jitters, I suppose". However, secretly, he had a feeling that he was scared because he didn't know what other people were like underneath their clothes, and he had no idea how he would react. His penis had taken to becoming hard for no apparent reason now a days, and though he didn't know what it meant, he knew that it wasn't something to share.

Nevertheless, Harry bit the bullet and, with a towel around his waist, walked into the shower section. He removed his glasses, putting them on a small rack by the door, and stared. The room was all tile, with seven shower heads available. Under the third one from the door was the slim body of Oliver Wood, who was currently lathering his body with a copious amount of soap. Harry gulped, quietly looking up and down his captain's nude backside. He was all muscle; he had no babyfat left, and his butt was exquisitely firm –

"Hullo, Harry!" Oliver suddenly said, turning his head around to the doorway. Harry took a step back in surprise, and to his dismay, he noticed that his cock was slowly filling with more blood.

"H-hey, Oliv-ver!" Harry mumbled, adding "almost done?"

"Ah, right, you're new," he said in a louder voice, turning his attention back to the shower wall. "After any big game, I like to meditate under the shower for a good amount of time."

"What d'you think about?" Harry inquired, willing his cock to return to its flaccid state.

"Y'know, the usual stuff – what went wrong, what could be improved, and for the first time, what can we keep doing to win again! All thanks to you, Harry."

Harry nodded slightly, listening to the shower spray without another word. Without moving towards the shower heads, he just rocked back and forth on his feet, staring at no particular tile off in the distance.

"First time sharing a shower, Potter?" Oliver suddenly asked, not looking over.

Horrified, Harry let out a weak "yes", and slowly began to back out of the room.

"Listen, no one likes to have to share a shower – hell, I don't like losing all my privacy in one go, but hey – we've all got to deal with it. Listen, I won't judge or anything, so just relax and enjoy."

Suddenly, Oliver turned completely facing Harry, not covering his penis at all. Gaining a tiny morsel of comfort from Oliver's empathy, Harry quickly pulled off the towel and turned on the water; thankfully, it was nice and hot already.

"See, you've got nothing to worry about." Oliver smiled, still staring at Harry. "You're a boy, I'm a boy, and there's no reason to see it as any more than that."

As Oliver repeated the word _boy_, Harry suddenly turned his head and caught a vivid peak at Oliver's dangling cock. It was bigger than his by far, and his balls were also huge. There was hair, too, around his crotch. Without warning, Harry's penis flooded with arousal and he grew to his full three inches, right in front of Oliver. He blushed immediately, and covered his cock with both his hands. Oliver, however, didn't seem to mind.

"Don't worry about it, Potter; it happens to all of us."

"What does?" Harry asked, hoping that his captain hadn't noticed his _exact _problem.

"Y'know...getting hard in the shower."

Harry flushed red immediately, and weakly replied, "maybe I should just go..."

"Ah, don't worry," the keeper continued, "all's you've got to do is finish it off; I won't judge."

_Finish it off? _Harry thought, rather perplexed at the term, "What's that?"

Suddenly, Oliver broke out into a laughing fit, only managing to get out "first years..."

"What?"

After composing himself, Oliver turned off his shower and slowly walked over to Harry's, turning it off too. Harry recoiled slightly, hands still around his cock.

"So you mean to tell me that you've never heard of jerking off, masturbating, wanking, tossing, a hand job, or fun-for-one?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, then, you're going to thank me for this later," Oliver said, looking down at Harry, "our dicks, cocks, penises, tools, members, et cetera, are for more than just pissing; they're specially designed to pleasure us whenever we want.

"However, in order to have fun with oneself, and in the future, others, one must get an erection – which you have already accomplished. Don't hide it, c'mon, show it! Be proud of it!"

Slowly, and with great caution, Harry began to move his hands from his groin to his sides. He allowed his dick to stand out straight, still greatly embarrassed. Harry, Oliver noted, was circumcised as well he was, and so he skipped explaining his experience with foreskins (of others) and moved straight to the main part of his lecture.

"Jerking off requires a soft yet firm grip, a willingness to continue, and a love of pleasure; do you have all that?"

Harry nodded shakily.

"Okay," Oliver took a deep breath, and calculated his next step. Technically, at this moment, Harry was jailbait and Oliver knew that touching him would be more of a pedophile move than a friendly teammate's gesture, "watch me."

With Harry as material, it didn't take long for Oliver to get hard. Staring at a boy that would have rivalled Hyacinth or Ganymede in ancient times brought him to his full six inches, and with great care, he grabbed his dick with his left hand, using the right to gather a bit of spit from his mouth. He slowly took the saliva and rubbed it on the head of his throbbing dick, exaggerating his moans of delight.

Though he would've thought it impossible, Harry got even harder at the sight. He chose then to mimic everything Oliver did from then on, and with little movements he too grabbed his cock and began pumping. Wave after wave of ecstasy suddenly flowed over him, and he chastised himself for ever being fearful about taking a shower.

"Feel's good, doesn't it?" Oliver smiled, guiltily taking in Harry's beauty for the best wanking material of all time.

"Yeah; how long do I go for?"

"As _long_ as you want," Oliver smiled, increasing his speed, "but typically, guys stop after their first cum."

"Cum?" Harry's eyes widened.

"Y'know...the climax?" Oliver prompted; the innocence of Harry's vocabulary only further aroused him, and he knew he wouldn't take much longer to get off.

"No..." Harry said, still pulling back and forth on his shaft.

"Okay...while jerking off feels great, it is not meant to last forever. What happens is that you'll get to a peak of pleasure, which is called cumming, and then come back down from it. When you get older, you'll shoot semen, but for now, you'll just have a great bit of pleasure. Watch!"

As Harry eagerly watched Oliver's actions, the captain quickly aimed his dick down near the drain and, with a few more tugs, climaxed. Suddenly, ribbons of white hot liquid shot out of his veined penis and landed near the drain; he continued milking himself until there was nothing left, and then he sighed contentedly.

Harry picked up his pace, and suddenly the pleasure increased. However, being a novice, Harry stopped as the pleasure stopped, assuming that he too had cum; in reality, he had not. Still erect, he stared at the deflating cock that the keeper was sporting, and turned on the shower head to wash away the globs of cum.

"Why am I still hard?" Harry asked, slightly worried.

"Well, the younger you are, the more sexual energy you have in you. I guess that you are just ready to go again; I wouldn't, though, if I were you – makes it feel less special. Just practice again soon, in the privacy of your own bed or something."

Harry nodded enthusiastically, and watched as Oliver towelled off and, with a quick farewell, walked out the door.

He finished his shower in a much better mood than he had started it, and then _he was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron and Hermione_.


	5. Chapter 5: Masturbation

Starting as the game begins...nearing the middle of Chapter 11 (PS). Starting italics are from the book.

"_Mount your brooms, please."_

_Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand._

_Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle._

_Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off._

While all the experienced players (meaning everyone except Harry) took off and quickly flew to their positions, Harry found himself shakily experimenting in the air. With one quick movement, he suddenly lurched off to the left, and found himself flying straight near one of the stands. Screams suddenly filled the air as the broom came very close to one person, before Harry regained control and then zoomed back to the pitch.

Unknown to him, he had flown right over Draco Malfoy and his goons, shocking them each in his own way. Crabbe was scared of getting hit by the tip of the broom, Goyle feared Harry falling atop him, and Malfoy found himself erect, _again_. As Harry had flown by, Draco had stared up at the perfect moment to see that, under his robes, Potter had worn tight white underwear that perfectly outlined his cock.

Now, his pants were uncomfortably tight, and Draco felt sure that he would never live it down if he didn't get away until the erection died; the last thing that he wanted was for any Slytherin to know that Harry Potter could cause this much of reaction to Draco.

Excusing himself while doing his best to hunch over, Draco quickly left the row and ran down the flight of stairs the lead away from the rafters. He jumped the last few steps and landed on the ground, beginning a steady run to the castle. There was no way that he could possibly see the rest of the game, knowing that Harry was playing dressed like _that_.

As he ran, a curious thing began to happen. Every time he lunged forwards, his cock would ram up against the fabric of his pants and roll his foreskin back ever so slightly. The first time it happened, Draco was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he tripped and almost fell over. He did not know why this made him feel so good, but he knew that he had to try it in the privacy of his dorm.

It took him only a few moments to get inside the castle, and a few more to find his way down to the dungeons. After aggravatingly mumbling the password to the stone wall that protected the dormitories, he ran inside and was quite relieved to find it empty. Slowing his pace, he swiftly strode over to the first year rooms, walked to his bed, and stared around; _Good, no one's here_.

He began to strip, first taking off his heavy outer wear before coming down to his silk undershirt and too-small y-fronts. Without fear, he yanked off the shirt, but he felt incredibly guilty when he slipped his fingers under the cloth.

Slowly, he felt his way down the hairless skin to the very hard piece of flesh that had dismissed him from the game. Though he had held it millions of times before to piss, this experience made it feel knew and foreign. It didn't feel like it was his, and this slightly disturbed Draco.

Inhaling deeply, he summoned his courage and pulled them down. He hissed as his freed cock interacted with the open air, and then he sighed in relief. After kicking away his underwear, he jumped onto his bed, atop his covers, and stared down his body with a kinky sense of adventure.

Both his hands were currently at his sides, just waiting for the order. The hard-on to end all hard-ons had not diminished at all, and to his delight, it seemed bigger than ever before. _Must be at least three inches...must measure it when I get a chance_, he thought to himself.

After a moment's hesitation, he put his right hand around his cock, and pulled down; instantly, a wave of pleasure that began at his cock flowed through his body, up to his head and down to his toes. Unconsciously, he arched his back up, thrusting into the air; Draco's breathing began to quicken as he stroked it again, and then again.

As his right hand pumped, he used his left hand to play with his foreskin a bit, pulling it down or holding it up; however, after a bit of working with it, it began to feel dry and chafed. Using the only lube he had available, he brought his hand up to his mouth, spat on it, and then returned it to his cock. His pleasure increased tenfold, and he had to close his eyes in order to handle the sheer bliss. He kept going as it kept feeling better, faster and faster, using more and more lube.

Suddenly, before his closed eyes came the vision of Potter's underwear once again, and Draco let out a loud moan. He began to imagine Harry in the very room, right beside him, in nothing but that underwear. The Golden Boy, the Boy Who Lived, the Boy Who Had Turned Down A Malfoy, was suddenly provoking in Draco the best feeling of his life.

In his mind, Draco imagined slowly pulling down Harry's shorts, freeing a cock that was just like Draco's...he thought about what it would look like compared to his. He had never seen another cock in his life, and he thought that Harry's would most likely be just as beautiful as his own.

Draco imagined putting his hand around Harry's own erection (for he was _certain_ that he could do to Potter what Potter was doing to him). He pulled down on the hard boyhood, and then...

With no warning, Draco's excitement grew exponentially, and he found himself thrusting harder and harder into the air before he suddenly hit a peak of pleasure. He opened his eyes and looked at his cock as he pumped faster and faster, and then he shouted out "Fuck, Potter, fuck!"

From his very hard dick came a little bead of white liquid, and then suddenly the pleasure diminished greatly. Draco sat up and watched his penis slowly melt back to its pre-game form, and looked inquisitively at the whiteness that was just above his belly button. He dipped his finger in it, and brought it closer to look at; it wasn't piss, and it wasn't pus – he had no clue what it was. Feeling slightly kinky, he licked it; he immediately regretted the idea, though, because it tasted horribly salty.

He spat it out onto the bed, and stood up again. Hearing the door to the dormitory open once again, at rapid speed he gathered his clothes and dressed faster than ever before. He was just pulling on his robes as Crabbe burst in, inquiring about his health.

Draco smiled; he had felt better than he had ever felt in his whole life, and it was his little secret.


	6. Chapter 6: Anger

**Starting from Chapter 13:**

_At that moment, Neville toppled into the common-room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower._

_Everyone fell about laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the counter-curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling._

"_What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron._

"_Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."_

Harry sat quiet, in disbelief for a moment. For Malfoy to have challenged Neville yet again was truly a Dudley-eque move, and thus Harry found himself loathing Malfoy even more. Challenging Harry was one thing, for Harry knew he could easily trounce him, but to attack someone with such a difference in skill between them – that verged on the level of unforgivable.

"_Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"_

_Neville shook his head._

"_I don't want more trouble," he mumbled._

"_You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."_

When Ron said 'lie down in front of him and make it easier', Harry shifted in his seat; he was brought a vivid image of himself doing the very same before Draco...but naked. Without an apparent reason, his dick suddenly surged with blood and he was completely erect. He began to drift off until suddenly Neville began to cry.

_Harry felt in the pocket of his robes_, careful not to touch his hard-on, _and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville_, who finally stopped sobbing.

"_You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said._


	7. Chapter 7: Revenge

Okay...definitely longer this time (sorry about the other one). Last Philosopher's Stone; in Chapter Fifteen...

_The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry's seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?_

_At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks._

"_We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups – Neville, you stay with me and Hermione_ and Fang_, Harry, you go with _... _this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, "but he'll have a harder time frightnin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."_

_So Harry set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy_. He was exceptionally angry that he had been separated from his friends and put with a living incarnate of Dudley (but good looking), and madder still at the handsome prick for his prank.

"Why'd you do it, you git?" Harry asked after several moments of walking in silence.

"Why did I do what?" Malfoy sneered.

"You know...fuckin' grab Neville," Harry countered quickly.

"Easy target, I suppose," Malfoy replied after a minute.

Harry spun around, his face flushing slightly in anger; Malfoy was proving himself to be no more than a petty bully, and Harry wasn't very comfortable having to accept the fact.

Watching Potter's body move so fluidly as he looked into Draco's eyes, Draco couldn't help but get hard. Luckily, his outdoor robes were loose-fitting and dark, so his little tent was covered nicely. Uncomfortable that Potter was provoking such a reaction, Draco darted his gaze away, fixating on a rather small spruce tree.

"So what, you just pick on the weak because they're weak?" Harry shouted, not caring who or what could hear them.

"Listen, Potter, don't you know the rule of nature? _Survival of the Fittest;_ not everyone in this world can make it, and some are simply better than others. If Longbottom can't tough it up, he doesn't deserve to be here," Draco managed to mumble out all the words, before shrugging and added, "s'what my father says, and I believe him."

Seeing Malfoy so robbed of his smugness evoked a massive feeling of sympathy deep within Harry, and he couldn't respond at all. Instead, he walked a few feet more, found a fallen log and sat down on it.

"Your father said all that?"

"Yeah, why?" Malfoy asked, still standing and evading Harry's gaze.

"And you _believe _him?"

"Of course!" Malfoy walked closer, regaining his confidence, adding "fuck off! What my dad does is of no concern to you!"

"So, if I beat you up now and win, you'll not be sore or unhappy – I'll have been better than you and that's that?"

"That's a pretty big _if_, Potter...you won't win!" Draco suddenly pulled out his wand, aiming it at Potter; as he prepared to strike, his erection finally died, and Draco felt himself again.

Harry immediately jumped up and charged Malfoy. He knew that he was little competition for someone who had grown up in an elite family that had known magic since the beginning of history. Instead, using the speed that he had earned running from Dudley, and the strength he had gained from years of endless chores, he threw himself against Malfoy and tackled him off the path onto the ground. In the fray, Malfoy's wand flew away from him.

They tumbled around for a moment, caught in each other's arms, desperately trying to gain control over the situation. Harry's right hand was pushing Malfoy's chest down, while his left was holding down an arm. Draco's legs were flailing in order to kick Potter off, and he spat in his rival's face.

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, moving his knee slightly. By accident, his thigh brushed against Draco's clothed dick; by intention, he kept it there, slowly rubbing Draco until he became hard once again.

Draco let out a soft moan, his cheeks flushing. However, he quickly caught himself and took advantage of Potter's indulgence. With all his force, he rolled left, and was soon free.

"What was that, Potter, you fuckin' queer!" Draco screamed, frantically searching for his wand.

Harry, however, did nothing; he just lay on the ground, relishing in the sudden wave of pleasure running through his body. He was hard again, just as much so as when he was with Oliver in the shower. _And I made Malfoy hard, too_, he thought to himself.

"What's queer?" he asked, out of genuine innocence.

Malfoy grunted angrily, brushing off his clothes, before replying, "gays...boys who like boys, and all that shit."

"Why's that a problem?" Harry suddenly said, unaware of how forward he was being. Slyly, he stood up, erection throbbing through his pants, and casually walked over to his rival.

"Cause its wrong, Potter," Malfoy whispered, keeping his distance.

A sudden noise distracted both boys away from each other, and Harry grabbed his wand. Malfoy found his after a moment more, and they began walking forward with withering erections.

They continued for a couple of minutes_, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker_ then when they had started out_. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak._

"_Look – " he murmured, holding out his arm to _protect Draco.

_Something white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer._

***Alright...now, I'm done in the Philosopher's Stone***


	8. Chapter 8: Ron

**No...Draco did not send Dobby! Dobby came of his own will (for this story's purposes). Picking up at the end of Chapter 3 in CoS, just entering Ron's room.**

_Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace: nearly everything in Ron's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Harry realised that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks and waving energetically._

"_Your Quidditch team?" said Harry._

"_The Chudley Cannons," said Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black Cs and a speeding cannonball. "Ninth in the league."_

_Ron's school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics which all seemed to feature _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle_. Ron's magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frogspawn on the window-sill, next to his fat grey rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun._

_Harry stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking one by one back through the Weasleys' hedge. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion._

(ignore the rest of the chapter)

"It's awesome," Harry said, looking around, "where do I sleep?"

Ron flushed red, "Um...we don't have any extra mattresses, and since my bed is a double, my mom's making you share my bed."

"Shotgun the right side," Harry said, trying not to appear surprised at the fact.

"Okay," Ron mumbled, though he usually slept on the right.

Though it was nearly morning, both boys were angling for a rest before the sun shone. So, Harry and Ron agreed to go to bed.

"Uh..." Ron said after a moment of silence, looking at a poster, "what d'you usually sleep in?"

"Underwear. You?" Harry asked.

"Pyjama pants," Ron replied, "turn away as I change, 'k?"

"I'll turn, and change myself," Harry said.

Both turned away from each other, and stripped nude. Ron went to his dresser and grabbed his pants; just before he put them on, though, he turned his head around and caught a quick glimpse of Harry pulling down his clothes. He had a farmer's tan, and was quite white down his back and on his..._naked _butt. He was slim and looked like he could use more food, because he was so ... _taught_. Ron's dick grew harder than it had ever been before, and he quickly flushed red again before putting on his pants.

At the same time, Harry silently stared at the window; thanks to the lamp near Ron, the glass became as reflective as a mirror, and he watched Ron's naked backside with eagerness. He was erect in a moment, and enjoyed the kinky feeling of being naked with Ron. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as the cool air swirled around him, and he was so tempted to start wanking. He usually did it once or twice a week, but ever since the Dobby incident he had been too shocked to get aroused. He was ready for another go, but he decided to be discreet and pulled on his y-fronts; they were too small for the tent he was forming, though. To hide it, he jumped into the bed, under the covers, and pulled them up to his neck.

"Hey, easy there," Ron chuckled nervously as he too jumped on the bed, doing his best to hide his hard on. Getting under the covers, he pulled them up to his chest and then closed his eyes.

"You always sleep with the light on?" Harry asked, noticing the lamp.

"Yeah...why, you don't?"

"Er, no," Harry said, squirming a bit.

"I can't sleep without it," Ron confirmed, "sorry, mate,"

"It's just that..." Harry began, nervously. Shivers began running through his body, and he began to stutter, "I just...uh..."

"Yes?"

"Uh...I haven't ... hmm ... er ... had a, uh, _wank_, in a couple of weeks," he managed to say within a couple of minutes, "so, uh, could we turn the light _off_?"

"Wank?"

"Yeah...I need it bad."

"Need what?"

"A _wank_!"

Ron gulped...he knew it was something private, but he didn't quite understand what it was, "What's a wank?"

"Oh," Harry snickered timidly, "you don't know what a wank is?"

"Nope," Ron turned on his side to face Harry in the bed, who was still lying on his back.

"You'll thank me for this," Harry whispered, barely audible.

Following a hesitant moment of caution, Harry shoved the covers off of his body, allowing them to gather around his knees. His hard on was now clearly visible through the thin white material of his underwear, and it only got firmer with the new attention.

Ron gasped, and felt his own erection through the covers, feeling quite awkward; however, he could only blush deeper when Harry continued. He dipped his fingers under the waistband, and with a quick pull he removed his underwear off. It was thrown on the floor with a quiet thump, and Harry grabbed the shaft with his right hand and pulled down.

Harry let out the most erotic moan Ron had ever heard in his life, but he couldn't be distracted away from the beautiful cock – not that he had seen many – in front of him. Suddenly filled with a mysterious wave of courage, Ron shucked off his covers and pyjama pants, revealing his own firm penis. Neither had any hair down below yet, and were barely on the track to puberty; however, Ron noticed immediately that his was slightly shorter than Harry's.

Finding time alone in a house with so many members and oddities, Ron had never explored his dick to any extent; he got hard, sure, but he only knew to wait it off, thinking of stupid and boring things, instead of indulging. Once, when he was 7, he caught Charlie pulling on his dick in the bathroom, but his brother had yelled and screamed so much that he cried and forgot what he saw.

"Watch me," Harry insisted – _as if I could turn away_, Ron thought. With his left hand, Harry gathered some spit from his mouth and then wet his aching erection with it. The pleasure doubled, and he couldn't help but thrust up into the air. Tugging violently, he looked over at Ron and his own cock, only becoming further aroused each passing second.

"How long do we ... _ahhh_ ... go for?" Ron asked, pulling on his dick with a speed equivalent to Harry.

"Until we cum...oh, I'm close..." Harry did his best not to yell out in pleasure, going faster. After a solid thirty seconds of movement, he suddenly thrust up, leaned over in Ron's direction, and climaxed. For the first time since he had begun jerking off, he fired semen out of his body – it wasn't much, just a drop or two, but it pushed Ron over the edge. He spasmed wildly, breathing deeply as he climaxed, but he didn't have anything to shoot.

Both boys lay there, on their backs, naked, panting. Exhausted, they laughed contently through deep breaths, and soon enough their dicks went to half mast.

"Shit, sorry, Ron," Harry noticed the cum on his belly, "let me get that,"

With impressive bravado, Harry reached over and wiped up the white liquid with his fingers off the taught skin. He rubbed his hands on the sheets, and then gave a deep sigh.

"That was bloody terrific, mate," Ron laughed, and looked at his naked best friend in the eyes, "When does my dick go soft again?"

Harry sat up, and looked down Ron's body and then his own – their dicks weren't flaccid as they should have been, following a wank. Then, he remembered what Oliver had told him ages ago – _"the younger you are, the more sexual energy you have in you. I guess that you are ready to go again"_.

"I've got an idea..." Harry smiled.

**Sorry about the cliffhanger **


	9. Chapter 9: Shampoo

**For those who review: thanks. For those who don't: please tell me what you think!**

Both boys were naked, both were horny, and both were captivated in the heat of the moment.

Harry was feeling brash, Ron was feeling excited. Harry had gone further than most boys of twelve, and Ron was a complete nubile. Harry wanted to touch Ron's dick – to jerk him off; Ron just wanted to indulge his best friend.

"Okay...so, uh, I've never done this before," Harry stammered as he slowly slid a bit further down the bed, moving his hands down the mattress, but not touching Ron. He was shaking rather violently from chills and a slight fear of rejection, but after swallowing hard he summoned up his courage to reach out and grab Ron.

Ron's eyes were wide as Harry's hand slowly stretched out, and when it was just inches from his rock hard member –

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasley cried out, knocking loudly on the door, startling the boys almost to tears. They jumped into action, Harry running nude around the room for their pyjamas, and Ron yanked the covers up onto the bed. At the exact second that Mrs. Weasley swung open the door, and walked in with a tiny mattress and bedding. "Harry, I wasn't sure if we had it or not, but here...ta da!"

"What is it?" Harry asked, trying to suppress his heart pounding a million beats a second.

"Your own bed," Mrs. Weasley smiled, very pleased with herself.

"Thanks, mum," Ron managed to say quickly.

"Okay, I'll leave all the stuff here, and we'll set it up first thing in the morning," Mrs. Weasley said as she spun around, closing the door, and marching off to her bedroom.

"_Bloody _hell!" Ron let out an exasperated sigh.

"Thank god she waited," Harry commiserated, taking a deep breath.

For a moment, both were silent, relief washing over them. However, as a result of the interruption, both had gone completely soft, and neither could really get hard again out of fear. As such, they both chose to just go to bed, and if anything, wait a while for another time and opportunity.

**Sorry for that. Continuing from Chapter 4, after the quidditch game at the Burrow. Italics denote the story from Chamber of Secrets.**

_Harry said nothing. He felt a bit awkward. Stored in an underground vault at Gringotts in London was a small fortune that his parents had left him. Of course, it was only in the wizarding world that he had money; you couldn't use Galleons, Sickles and Knuts in Muggle shops. He had never mentioned his Gringotts bank account to the Dursleys; he didn't think their horror of anything connected with magic would stretch to a large pile of gold._

When the game finished, Fred and George opted to take a swim at the nearby pond; however, Ron and Harry were not too keen to swim in the freezing cold water. They walked back to the Burrow together, chatting about the Chudley Cannons and their recent rise to fifth in the league; neither of them spoke a word about what had transpired the night before, and to be honest, it was far from their minds.

However, when they got inside the house, they were greeted by a fleeing Ginny and a cleaning Mrs. Weasley; the latter reprimanded them for their smell, and told them to shower. The boys agreed, and raced each other up the stairs.

"Shotgun first!" Ron said as he reached the top of the stairs first, triumphantly shoving his fist in the air.

"Do you not have another shower in this ... _huge _house?" Harry questioned.

"Well, Fred and George have one, but something's bound to explode if you try to use it. Percy has one, but its for his _private_ use only. Mum and Dad have one, but it only has cold water, and they share that with Ginny," Ron listed off the showers on his fingers.

Averting his eyes, a smirk crossed his face and Harry began slowly, "y'know, we could shower at the same time..."

"As in _together_?" Ron smiled back.

"Well, we've already seen each other naked, and we never got a chance to wank again,"

"True,"

With few jitters, the two ran to Ron's room, stripped down to their y-fronts and, with a load of clean clothes in one arm and a towel in the other. They locked the door to the smallish room with a rather large shower, and when they once again laid eyes on each other, they found themselves to be hard again. They both yanked off their underwear, and let their constrained erections meet the cool air. Harry was almost unwilling to remove his glasses, but he knew he had to, as he did in every shower.

Ron turned on the water, and after a moment of heating up, stepped into the booth, followed shortly by Harry. Careful to keep a small distance between them, they both shared a turn at the spray, coating their sweaty dirty bodies with pristine sparkling water. The warmth felt terrific, but the feelings of relief were offset by the utter arousal that both boys were sporting. Both were timid; both were scared.

"Looks like we don't have much shampoo," Ron noted as he reached down, showing his ass to Harry, grabbing a plastic bottle with a clear, thick liquid. He rubbed what little there was and massaged it into his long hair. Bubbles galore foamed out, and once Ron was finished, he didn't wash it off; instead, he had an idea. He took the foam he had and then put it on Harry's head, rubbing it in.

At the sudden foreign touch of another person, both while in their birthday suits, Harry shuddered and closed his eyes. His body tingled and his member grew impossibly harder, begging to be touched. Once Ron was finished with his hair, he turned the spray on himself and washed himself clean, careful to avoid his erection. Harry then rinsed, and shook his hair.

"So," Ron's slightly lower voice whispered, "you want to start..." he swallowed "wanking?"

"Yeah," Harry rubbed his shoulders, slowly rubbing down his slim body until he reached his hard on. He started to tug on it with his full fist, slowly at first, but within a minute, he reached a quick tempo. Ron quickly followed his best friend's example, using a couple of fingers around the shaft.

The magic of the night before, however, was oddly missing; both Harry and Ron stared away from one another, not really meeting each other's gaze at all. However, it didn't take long for Harry to summon up his bravado.

"Y'know, I've been thinking," Harry began.

"yeah?" Ron quickly snapped his eyes to meet Harry's, eager at the idea.

"Well, one day, we'll grow up and marry women, and always be with women...we'll never really ever get to ... [gulp] ... touch another guy's..."

"cock?"

"dick."

Ron took a step forward, took his hands away from his genitals, and (having pushed Harry's hands away) took hold of his friend's hard on, and pulled.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Harry let out a loud moan of pure pleasure, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes. Nothing in his whole life had ever felt so good as Ron's firm grip jerking him off.

Ron, spurred on by Harry's reaction, tried different techniques; he went from a fist to a couple of fingers, used his other hand to cup Harry's hairless balls or rub his inner thigh, silently thrust his own erection into the air, as if trying to look for an invisible hand.

"Do you like _this_?" Ron asked quietly as he twisted the cock slightly to the right, and Harry took a deep breath in. "YES! FUCK YES!" Harry screamed, and after a second, he shot another small bead of cum into the air; he didn't know where it went – he just cared that his best cum of his life came from his best friend.

Ron let go of Harry's slightly wilted erection, and returned his hand to his own hard on. After Harry recollected himself, though, he pounced forward, pulled Ron's hand off to his sides, and used both hands to grab Ron's dick. It didn't take much, and within seconds, Ron was spasming in climax.

The two shared a laugh as a wave of pleasure rippled through their bodies. Their erections returned to half mast, and though Harry briefly considered wanking again, a sudden tinge of guilt summoned his consciousness. It felt ... _wrong_ to take advantage of Ron for his own pleasure, though, and this feeling cause him to step out of the shower and towel off in silence.

Ron picked up Harry's sudden unhappiness, and slowly deflated until he was left a shuddering, cold boy, with a meagre towel around his body. The electricity had disappeared from their actions, everything was now weird and alien.

They changed and went about their afternoons separately. At night, they didn't say a word as they remained in their own beds, and when _Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday_, they weren't very talkative.

**Please R/R!**


	10. Chapter 10: Flourish and Blotts

**Enjoy! Italics are passages from the book, end of Chap. 4**

"_Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter," said a voice Harry had no trouble recognising. He straightened up and found himself face to face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer._

"_Famous Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."_

"You're just jealous," Harry took a step forward, narrowing his gaze to focus on Draco's eyes, "Just because no one has even the slightest clue that you exist does not mean you need try and taunt me."

Draco was taken aback. Harry didn't bowl over to Draco's taunts; in fact, he stood there and took it like a man, and that annoyed Draco. It annoyed him so much that he got hard. In Flourish and Blotts. Near everyone he knew at school.

Harry caught a glimpse of the reaction he provoked before Draco crunched over just a bit, allowing excess cloth to cover his groin and hide his erection.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Harry smirked.

"Nothing, Potter," Draco stammered.

It was then that a couple of choice sentences flew into his head, from their encounter in the forest at the end of last year.

*** "What's queer" [Harry] ***

"Gays, boys who like boys..." [Draco]

"Why's that a problem?"

*** "Cause its wrong" ***

"Looks like you've got a bit of a problem, there," Harry continued, "thought it was a bad thing to like boys?"

"It is, you jackass," Draco flushed, his ivory skin turning slightly redder as he took a step back.

"So what's with the hard on...looks like you need a wank."

Draco looked absolutely horrified at the word, and he contemplated running away right then and there, but suddenly his father came into view and his dick immediately went soft. Feeling his confidence return, he stood up straight, took a step _closer_ to Harry, and pulled his wand out; he was bluffing, but he knew he needed to get at least one up on Harry today.

"I don't need a wank, thank you very much, and you better keep your famous trap shut, or I'll blow your mouth off,"

"Like you could do that," Harry snickered.

"I could, and you could never have another one of your stupid photo ops again,"

_Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy._

**Short, but sweet.**

**Sorry for the lack of smut, but I don't think anything could have happened here.**

**I will resume once Harry starts Quidditch practice. Yes, I am ignoring Harry and Draco's spat in Chapter Six, but I think JK Rowling wrote it perfectly for this story.**


	11. Chapter 11: Running

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated! Enjoy! Picking up in Chapter 5. Italics denote the book**

_The end of the summer holidays came too quickly for Harry's liking. He was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but his month at The Burrow had been the happiest of his life_ after the run he took following the trip to Flourish and Blotts.

Everything was spinning...everything was so new and different. He had wanked with Ron, felt great, but had become exceptionally guilty for no real reason. And yet, he had gotten Malfoy to wanking state, and felt powerful and terrific at this new talent. What was going on? He hadn't had such problems _before _he started wanking.

Running through the fields surrounding the Burrow helped a bit, as it removed his thoughts away from boys and masturbation to not running into trees and tripping over rocks. The wind was cooling down as the sun was setting, but he felt hot and flushed in the face. A trace of a hard on passed over him as his wand pressed against his thigh, but he did his best to ignore it and keep moving.

"FUCK!" Harry yelled to the heavens, staring upwards for just a second...before tripping over a dug up root, tumbling face forwards, and landing in a pool of mud. Before he knew it, he was covered in crap and on the verge of tears. He pounded a fist on the ground, and swore again.

After lying flat for a couple of minutes, he finally rolled over, onto a small grassy mound, and took a deep breath. He sat up, and was greeted by the slightly amused face of Fred...or was he George?

"What's goin' on, Harry?" he asked, kneeling down just away from the mud.

"Nothing," Harry immediately responded.

"C'mon, you're worried about something; so what is it?"

"How can I trust you?"

"George and I can both keep secrets, even from each other," Fred explained, "does it have something to do with _a girl_?"

"No," Harry avoided Fred's gaze.

"Did you and ickle-Ronniekins have a spat?"

"Maybe,"

"What...did you have 'who's bigger' contest and he won?"

"What, no, uh..." Harry began to stammer, feeling shivers of nervousness run down his spine.

"Did you wank together?" Fred leaned in a bit closer, still away from the muddy Harry.

"How did you know?" Harry managed to whisper, horrified.

"I didn't, but I do now," Fred smiled.

"You can't tell **anyone**!"

"I know," Fred reassured him, "don't worry. You're secret's safe with me."

"Thanks,"

"What happened?"

"I don't want to say,"

"Did you wank each other off?"

Harry was too dumbfounded to respond.

"Don't worry...everyone does that when they start wanking; it's fun, and logically, you share fun stuff with your friends. George wanked me off a couple of times and I him when we started,"

"But...don't you think that's...uh..._gay_?" Harry asked timidly.

"Nope. Wanking's fun, no matter who you're with," Fred smiled.

"But I feel kind of guilty to feel so good from ... wanking,"

"Look, Harry, it's just a fact of life; it's a fun time of hormones and emotions, and wanking comes with it. Don't fret it, and enjoy it."

"Thanks," Harry said, slowly standing up.

The two walked back to the Burrow, and when they got inside Harry rushed up the stairs to the shower. He stripped quickly, and was careful to keep his clothes from dirtying the room. He was hesitant, though, to step into the shower, as the sudden memory of Ron _naked_ flooded his mind, and then his cock.

A knock came at the door, and Harry bolted into the shower, covering his protruding erection. "C-come in?"

The door swung open and Ron stepped in, dressed in a towel. "Harry? Can I talk to you about something?"

"S-sure,"

"Listen...I'm sorry if I did anything, uh, weird, to you, y'know, that you didn't like,"

"Ron...it's okay, I just got kind of freaked out with everything,"

"Me too, sort of," Ron took a step forward, though Harry was still covering up, "can I come in?"

"Yeah...just, we shouldn't wank each other off, I think,"

Ron pondered for a second, before pulling off the towel and revealing his hard on. "We can still jerk off, though, right?"

"Sure," Harry snickered, uncovering his member and turning on the water. The two enjoyed a simultaneous, not mutual, wank, and then went to their beds with a comfortable silence.

Once every couple of days, for the rest of the summer, Harry and Ron would masturbate, up until it was time to go. Harry would be sad to go home, and _it was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron when he thought of the Dursleys and the sort of welcome he could expect next time he turned up in Privet Drive._

**There will be smut next time, don't fret!**

**I will resume shortly, once Harry starts Quidditch practice. Yes, I am ignoring Harry and Draco's spat in Chapter Six, but I think JK Rowling wrote it perfectly for this story.**


	12. Chapter 12: Sweat

**As promised, we resume in Chapter 7, just after Ron cursed himself and is leaving the pitch. As always, the first Italics denote passages from the book.**

"_Get out of the way, Colin!" said Harry angrily. He and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds towards the edge of the forest_.

Meanwhile, back on the pitch, the Slytherin team was still roaring in laughter as the Gryffindors marched to the change rooms. Draco was so pleased with the way everything had turned out, and the effect he had had on Potter and his friends.

When they finally got around to practicing, Draco flew up shakily on the new and improved broom; it was nice and smooth, jet black...like Potter's hair...

It only took a second for Draco to harden; and when he realized that he was erect, _again_, because of Potter, he was nothing short of venomous. He flew around with impressive speed, trying to forget the cause of his hard on; nothing worked, though, until he was hit in the ribs by a misfired bludger. He spent the rest of the practice moaning about the pain he felt.

After several hours, Flint finally called everyone in and ended the practice. Draco was nothing short of relieved, because he was covered in ... sweat. Gross, smelly, wet, yucky sweat.

All his life, he had been pampered and taken care of; his father had never made Draco run around outside or work for himself. He didn't have to gather food, or play violent sports. He certainly never dreamed of doing anything too strenuous, and in all his Quidditch practicing at home, he had flown in the cool weather and _not_ worked up a sweat.

Now, he had to face a shower. Luckily, Lucius Malfoy's patronage of the Slytherin team had gone beyond new brooms: he had redone their changerooms, so that a deep green tile stood where once disgusting porcelain had been. Stalls had been put in, and now everyone could shower in privacy.

Draco was rather ecstatic about the last feature, because he had never seen another boy, guy, man...naked before, and closest he had ever been with another boy was with Potter in the forest, and that had been nothing short of embarrassing.

Stepping into the oversized stall, he quickly disrobed, peeling off the wet clothing with disdain and disgust. Luckily the house elves would be the ones to clean his uniform, so he wouldn't have to deal with it again until it was clean.

He stood under the shower head, and turned the water on – magically, it was at the precise temperature that Draco desired, and within moments, he was a rich aristocrat again, instead of a proletariat sportsman.

Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and relaxed. Before him was darkness...and then, an image came to mind: Potter, in his robes. But wait! Those weren't Quidditch robes – since when did Quidditch robes come up to the middle of his thighs, or reveal his thin stomach so teasingly...

"Fuck it," Draco moaned as he grew to full mast. This obsession with Potter had to stop, and he knew that, but for now...why not enjoy the remedy?

He threw his head back and slowly started moving his hands down his body, starting from his slowly broadening shoulders. He slyly ran his hands down his smooth chest, with his right, feeling the outline of his ribs, and with his left, experimentally rubbing one of his nipples (_oh, that feels good!_, he thought).

_I wonder if Potter likes having his nipples massaged..._Draco thought in his mind, intensifying the pleasure that had all gone to his groin. He felt down his slim stomach, feeling the whisper of muscles beginning to form, down past his belly button [innie, btw], until he finally grabbed a hold of his throbbing member and _pulled_.

"Ahhh!" he did his best to suppress the guttural moan that Harry's image and his own hands evoked, but to no avail; the guy in the next stall had a pretty good idea of what was going on, but kept to himself – Draco could be downright terrifying if crossed.

Draco allowed his other hand to reach down and tickle his balls, causing him to lean forwards on his feet, trying to fuck the invisible cause of his erection. _Goddamn, this is hot_, he muttered.

His hips continued to rock, and he soon began letting out a constant string of little moans and gasps. Opening his eyes and looking down, he saw that his hand was a blur as it reached a super fast tempo, and within a second he came.

Over the summer, he had noticed that he had gone from one tiny little drop of cum to a couple, and then today, he only glanced for a second, but he noticed a little tiny ribbon of white liquid on the shower wall in front of him.

Glowing in the aftermath of his climax, he sunk his head and closed his eyes and allowed the water to wash away the signs of his activity. He knew he would have to stop Potter having such an influence over him; the only problem was, he just didn't know how.


	13. Chapter 13: Pyjamas

**This is from Chapter 10; Harry is in hospital without bones in his arm, just after Madam Pomfrey kicks everyone out, and before Colin arrives. Starting italics are the actually book:**

_They had brought cakes, sweets and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow. Out! OUT!"_

"It's okay, mate," Ron said in a whisper, making sure no one else heard him, "I'll be back in an hour or so with your pyjamas, okay?"

Harry nodded, thankfully; before going back to school, he had grabbed a nice pair of silk pyjama pants from a clothing store that he swore he saw Malfoy in. It was his one luxury item, and would be glad to feel one nice thing for the night that promised to be torturous.

_And _then_ Harry was left alone, with nothing_ but the thought of nice clothes_ to distract him from the stabbing pains in his limp arm._

Around the middle of the evening, whilst Madam Pomfrey was off for supper and Harry was completely alone in the Hospital Wing, Ron showed up with the pyjamas in one arm, and another pillow in the other. He had a small smile on his face, but because of the pain he was feeling, Harry missed it.

"How's it going?" Ron asked in a quiet voice.

"Painful...I still can't move my arm at all," Harry sighed, trying to hold back a grunt of agony.

Ron came up to the bed, and threw the pillow into an adjacent chair and unravelled the pyjama pants. Harry watched him do this, and then both went silent; how was Harry going to get them on?

It took two minutes for Harry to summon up his courage, and state the obvious, "I can't exactly get them on myself; could you do it, Ron?"

Ron blushed immediately, and with a gulp stepped forward. Tenatively, he slowly removed the thin cover and sheets, revealing Harry, dressed in the semi-plastic garb of the hospital dress.

"Y'know," Harry said, shifting around a bit as Ron paused, "I can't really wank off easily like this; if you were alright with it, it would take my mind off the pain,"

Ron was suddenly filled with a zeal that Harry hadn't seen in Ron before; he threw the pyjama pants onto the chair with the pillows, and was quick to remove the garb and reveal Harry, completely naked, so hard that precum had already begun to collect at the top of his member.

Gasping, reached out and curled his fingers around Harry's cock. He breathed deeply, and once Ron began to pump, Harry bit his bottom lip to stifle a moan of sheer erotic ecstasy.

From outside in the hallway, Draco gasped; he had been feeling a bit under the weather, and his natural instinct was to seek help from Madam Pomfrey. However, not in his wildest dreams had he ever expected to walk in on Harry Potter being jerked off by the Weasel. Never, ever, ever, in a million kazajabillion years!

He was facing Ron, whose sole attention was on the nude Harry; both were hard, and Draco noticed that Ron was wanking himself off with his spare hand. Suddenly aroused by the sight, Draco slowly snaked his hand into his underwear and grabbed _hard_. It felt so much better than usual, and he let out a gasp.

_It was, as they say, the gasp heard around the world; for at that moment, Ron saw Draco, and Harry turned to see his lifelong enemy just as aroused as he was...Draco's reputation was over at that moment, and Malfoy knew it. He could never face Potter or the Weasel, or any Gryffindor for that matter, for the rest of his life, lest he be subjected to the humiliation of a lifetime..._

Luckily for Draco, actually, his gasp had been overshadowed by Harry's climax and resulting moan; thus, Draco was completely safe and had simply made himself sick with worry for no reason. However, as soon as Ron came, he knew he had to flee, lest he be caught.

He dashed through the halls, running at top speed down to the Slytherin common room, and snuck into his bed. Casting _silencio_, he quickly stripped and masturbated; it took him twenty seconds to get off.

Meanwhile, after Ron and Harry had cleaned up from their activity, Ron slipped his best friend into the desired pyjama pants, pulled the sheets back up, and walked back to the common room with a goofy smile on his face.

Harry went back to sleep; _hours and hours later_, he _woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: his arm now felt full of large splinters._


	14. Chapter 14: Wet Dreams

**Hope you enjoy – would love reviews on what you thought! Starting italics are from the book, chapter 11.**

_Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the hangings round his four-poster bed he watched snow starting to drift past the tower window, and wondered._

_Could he be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? He didn't know anything about his father's family, after all. The Dursleys had always forbidden questions about his wizarding relatives._

_Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words wouldn't come. It seemed he had to be face to face with a snake to do it._

"_But I'm in Gyffindor," Harry thought. "The Sorting Hat wouldn't have put me in here if I had Slytherin blood..."_

"_Ah," said a nasty little voice in his brain, "But the Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin, don't you remember?"_

_Harry turned over. He'd see Justin the next day in Herbology and he'd explain that he'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which (he thought angrily, pummelling his pillow) any fool should have realised. _

Though his rage kept him awake for an hour longer, he finally managed to drift off to sleep as the snowfall grew heavier.

He dreamed that he was back in the Great Hall, and the Duelling Club had been set up once again. However, there was a very important difference – there was nobody there, it was the middle of the night and very dark (save for five glowing candles on either side of the room), and Harry was in his silk pyjama pants. His wand was in his hands, and he was kind of freaked out that Slytherin's monster was nearby.

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy's voice suddenly pierced the silent room, and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up. He didn't know where the voice had come from, but suddenly the problem was resolved.

Standing about 15 feet away from Harry, lit only by the bright candles around him, was Draco Malfoy. Except...he was completely naked and very, _very_ aroused. It took Harry no time at all to rise to full mast.

Malfoy began taking steps forwards, moving slowly but surely. Harry watched with his eyes wide and his mouth gaping open. He watched the throbbing member (which was slightly shorter than his own) bobbing along with each step Malfoy made, and when Malfoy stopped walking (about a foot away from Harry), Harry was only staring at his dick.

"Nothing smart to say, Potter?" Malfoy asked, seemingly oblivious to Harry's fixation on his member.

Harry looked up, speechless, staring Malfoy in the eyes. Malfoy grinned in a very ... _sexy_ kind of way.

"Looks like you, uh, have got a, uh, little problem," Harry did his best to remain on top of the situation.

"Yours looks worse," Malfoy took another step forward, dropped his wand, and reached out his hand and grabbed Harry's trapped erection.

A shock of total ecstasy ran through Harry's body, and he released a low, guttural moan. Throwing his head back, his breathing became staggered. Malfoy's hand was slowly rubbing his shaft through the cloth, teasing him...

"Fuck, Malfoy..." Harry whispered. He had dropped his wand, and without realizing it, he reached out and grabbed Malfoy's cock. He was completely surprised at the action – he almost always _hated_ Malfoy, and he wasn't really attracted to him (as far as he had always thought). And yet, here he was, wanking Malfoy off.

Malfoy removed his hands from Harry's cock and moved up to rub up his lithe body, his fingertips dancing along the smooth skin, before moving up his ribs and playfully rubbing Harry's taught nipples. Harry couldn't take much more, and he moved his hands behind Malfoy's back and pulled their bodies so that they lined up together, rubbing their erections together.

"Easy there, Potter," Malfoy said, still cocky as ever, as the soft silk of Harry's trapped erection rubbed with his own. With a quick flash, his hands yanked down the offending material, freeing Harry and together they stood there, taking in the feeling of being so close to each other's body.

Malfoy carefully moved a hand down to their stiff members and began to jerk them in unison; the exquisite feeling caused Harry to give fuck all to inhibitions and ... kissed Malfoy.

He kissed Malfoy...

He kissed..._Draco_...

Both of them shut their eyes as they shared the moment, and around them the candles dimmed slightly, letting their senses take control.

It didn't take long before Harry started to thrust harder and faster, before he and Draco both moaned into each other's mouths, and they came. There was more semen than Harry had ever seen that splashed against their bellies; he didn't care though, because he felt so good...

Suddenly, Draco broke away and slid down their wet bodies, down to Harry's navel. Harry looked down with a whimper to see Draco lapping up the cum on his stomach – it was enough to make him hard again, and so he was.

Draco moved slowly downwards, rubbing his hands up and down Harry's thighs, and then took Harry into his mouth...it was amazing how quickly Harry was able to cum yet again. This pleasure was ten times better than the first one, which was only a minute ago, and then...

"Harry, wake up!" Ron's voice was yelling into his ear, "It's time for breakfast, c'mon mate!"

"Huh?" Harry sat up rather groggily; luckily, his duvet had been heavy enough to cover his slowly wilting erection.

"You sounded like you were having a bad dream, anyways; you were moaning and tossing about,"

_Oh, I was tossing_, Harry thought to himself; however, the fact that he had done what he had done with Malfoy kind of unnerved him.

"Meet you downstairs, okay?" Harry spoke quietly.

"K," Ron smiled warmly, before disappearing into the common room.

Carefully, Harry pulled back the covers – white stains were all over the front of his pyjamas. He would have to wash them without anyone knowing, but first, he went to take a shower. _A cold shower_, Harry reminded himself.

He spent the rest of the morning daydreaming about kissing Malfoy

**(A/N: The Seamus that JK Rowling wrote about is a [hot] sandy haired boy; not the brutish clutz of the movies) WARNING: SEAMUS/JUSTIN AHEAD; actually important to the later story, so please read first part; the rest is just smut for smut's sake.**

Seamus hadn't wanked for a week; he had had a very odd fear that Slytherin's monster would grab him while he was masturbating and kill him. Thus, he hadn't.

However, once sleep fell upon him after the day, his dreams turned from reliving the duelling club to a very good looking person in the club: Justin Finch-Fletchley. He had beautiful wavy golden locks of hair on his head, his face was perfectly straddling childhood and adolescence, and his body was slim and absolutely sexy.

Seamus had known of his inclination to boys from a young age – ever since incidental games of 'You show me yours and I'll show you mine' lead to wonderful wanking sessions back home at his muggle school. He had sized up a couple of guys when he first got to Hogwarts, Potter included, but had recently begun lusting after guys a few years ahead of him. That changed with Justin.

In his dream, a scene from the day came back to life. After Ron's wand had misfired a spell and Seamus had been knocked back onto the ground, Justin (who had been beside him) turned around and sunk to his knees. He looked upon Seamus with genuine concern that he was hurt, and was asking him if he was okay, and trying to see if he was alright.

However, instead of helping him up and going their separate ways, dream-Justin helped Seamus up only to immediately kiss him deeply. Both boys went hard instantly, and closed their eyes.

The people around them melted away into the backdrop, and when Seamus opened his eyes again, they had moved to a large room with a massive bed and crackling fireplace to the side. With a wink, Justin ran quickly over to the bed, and jumped up.

"C'mere," Justin whispered, shucking off his top robes and pants; he was now only dressed in his dress shirt and boxers, sporting a large tent.

Seamus wasted no time at all and, with as much speed as he could muster, leaped onto the bed, tackling Justin over onto his back, and kissing him deeply. Justin let out a bit of a laugh, and did his best to remove Seamus' robes as they passionately made out. Within thirty seconds, both had only their button down white shirts and boxers.

Always wanting to try out what he had seen in the movies, Seamus ripped their shirts open, sending buttons flying everywhere before throwing them off to the side. Exuberantly, he rubbed his hands all over Justin's slim torso, before working his way down to the trapped erection. Justin returned the favour, reaching out and stroking Seamus through his cloth prison.

"Fuck, this is so...ahh...fucking _hot_!" Seamus whispered as he slid Justin's underwear down. The four inch cock before him was weeping with joy, and he had a hard time fighting the urge to just take it and plunge it into him right then and there. Instead, he just moved down Justin's body and took the hard on into his mouth; he was immediately gratified by Justin's soft exhale of pleasure.

He sucked up the shaft, cradling the balls with his left hand while his right rubbed Justin's flat belly – he was mimicking everything he had read about in the abandoned gay porn magazines stolen from a neighbour's trash bin. It didn't take long for Justin to cum, spewing shot after shot of his hot load. Seamus could barely take it all – he was shocked at how much there was!

Without any stimulation, Seamus creamed his boxers, but was still hard as ever. He yanked down his underwear and freed his erection, still dripping creamy goo.

"Okay, love, let's do this," Justin smirked. The two shared a kiss, allowing Justin to taste himself on Seamus' tongue. Using only cum and spit, Seamus plunged down onto Justin's rock hard cock; for some reason, he didn't need to prep; it felt fine without it, if not better.

They rocked back and forth, Seamus enjoying being filled and Justin relishing in the soft touch of his lover's hot cock on his stomach every time he bounced up and down. Five minutes later they were cumming again, even harder and better than before. Pleasure seemed to start at Justin's cock and course through his own body, before sending waves of ecstasy running through Seamus.

With a sigh, Seamus rolled off of Justin, feeling the warm heat leaving his body. The two then embraced in a soft hug, pulled up the duvet, and then the dream ended.

Seamus awoke to ruined sheets and the sun beginning to poke up over the mountains around the castle. As he walked over to the showers, he hoped that Justin wasn't going to be in class that day; he didn't think he could handle looking at him without getting hard in the middle of class.

***** Now for Draco**

After their duel, Draco had gone to the library to research Parseltongue; why did Potter have it and he didn't? Finding out that it was a skill acquired by birth and not by practice, he spent the evening in a bleak melancholy, depressed that no amount of money could buy him something better than what his rival had.

Everyone in the Slytherin dorm had given him a wide berth that day, seeing the icy look on his face as he stared out the windows, contemplating. When he finally went to bed, everyone else had been asleep for hours. Feeling to bothered to get ready for bed, he just stripped and went to bed naked. _Bad idea_.

His first dream was about casting a snake and watching it chasing after mudbloods – interesting dream, to say the least, but it didn't provoke as much glee in him as he would have thought it would. For some reason, it left him empty and feeling slightly pitiful towards the students.

His second dream was about fifty seconds, and he was watching his father speak to a snake before pressing Draco to try the same; he failed, and the snake ate him. After waking up in a cold sweat, he spent ten minutes calming himself down and taking a glass of warm milk. Then, he went back to bed, just about an hour before sunrise.

The final dream of the night placed him back in the Great Hall, facing Potter. They were alone and ready to duel, each with their wands raised and ready to strike. There was no bumbling Lockhart or menacing Snape, no students egging them on or teachers watching in amusement. It was just the two of them.

"Petrificus totalus!" Potter shouted, and suddenly Draco went board stiff – not in the good way. He fell back onto the ground with a thump, and Potter rushed over, a wide grin on his face. He began to strip Draco down, taking only seconds to make him totally nude. Because of the spell, he couldn't get hard; however, his mind was compensating perfectly well, and his thoughts were only thinking of the naked Potter he had wanked to for the past year.

"What, not happy to see me, _Draco_?" Potter asked playfully. Something felt wrong inside of Draco when he heard Potter use his first name, but he couldn't do shit all about it.

"Maybe I should try something else..." Potter said as he moved down Draco's smooth naked body and put his cock in his mouth. Draco tried to gasp out in pleasure, but it was all reserved for his mind to enjoy, and be tortured by!

Potter slowly disrobed, and was completely naked in a minute. He then stood up, showing off his erection in front of Draco; for fuck's sake, it was bigger than Draco's!

"Suck on it!" He said as he pushed it around on Draco's waiting lips. A whispered _finite incantem_ caused Draco to suddenly move his mouth and take the hot member in, at the same time growing to full length in record time. However, he used it only as a tool for distraction; while Potter was occupied fixating on his pleasure, Draco moved his hands up and then pushed the other boy back and away. Potter was unprepared for the sudden move, and was knocked to the floor.

"Ha!" Draco yelled in triumph before strutting over to Potter in his birthday suit. He kneeled down beside the body of his rival, who had resorted to a sort of fetal position, and was about to impose a blow job on him when...

"Rictumsempra!" Potter shouted, pouncing on Draco, causing their erections to brush together. Immediately, he began tickling Draco with all his might, causing him to convulse with laughter and pleasure.

It was then that Draco had a sudden moment of revelation – he was actually enjoying himself with Potter, with ... Harry Potter; he had never felt that towards Potter, or _anyone,_ for that matter.

Harry eventually relented, allowing Draco a moment to catch his breath and adjust to the weird feeling of a smile on his face. However, it was wiped off in a moment as Harry leaned in and softly kissed him. Draco did not fight back; instead, he just lay back and took it. Harry lowered his cock so that it lay perfectly against Draco's, and then he slowly snaked his hand down and grasped them together. He began slowly, jerking them off in unison, gradually speeding up.

Rock hard member rubbed against rock hard member, causing Draco to swell with longing for the beautiful boy atop him. He reached up and put his hands in Harry's hair, needlessly trying to prolong their kiss. Harry started to gasp and his breathing became staggered; Draco smiled again and thrust up.

Suddenly, hot liquid was pouring onto his stomach and chest – even a few drops reached the pink nubs of his nipples. He didn't know whose seed was where; both had mixed together and combined. It was perfect, and Draco wanted to go again. Harry finally broke the kiss and sat up; Draco slowly rose and looked lovingly and erotically at the other boy.

"Want to go again?" was what he was going to say. However, all he got out was "Want t-" before he was awoken by the pug-ugly face of Crabbe staring at him, trying to wake him up.

Draco could've punched him. His sheets were soaked and tossed about, and his throbbing erection did not want to subside without the proper treatment; that was now impossible, and he spent the day angrily hurting anyone who dared cross him.


	15. Chapter 15: Christmas Presents

**On with the story! We pick up Chapter 12, midway through. Italics denote the book's text.**

_At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Harry found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he, Hermione and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice duelling in private_. Because they had all remained in their own beds on their own floors, Ron and Harry had been alone in the nights. As most nights had been full of fun and excitement, neither Ron nor Harry had really had the chance to wank at all.

Though both had really enjoyed their time together in the Hospital Wing, they had not spoken of it since. Exams had simply been too stressful for Ron, and Harry had become a little more bashful about the whole subject. Having a wet dream about Malfoy did not help in the least – in fact, he now feared that he and Ron would **have** to go further; he didn't want to kiss Ron, and he certainly didn't want to put Ron's cock into his mouth.

On Christmas Eve, however, Fred and George had passed out from a little too much firewhiskey and Percy had turned in early. Hermione and Ginny were in their own dorms, and Harry and Ron were both wide awake. Ron moved first.

Not having much money, Ron had struggled to find a good gift for Harry. In the end, he had taken one of his own books, _Flying with the Cannons_, and wrapped it for Harry; but he needed something more. Thus, the week leading up to Christmas, he had woken up early every morning, borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak, and snuck into the library's Restricted Section. There, he found a book titled "Pleasure for Two", detailing techniques for wanking with friends. He had spent the week reading and practicing, and now he was ready to give Harry his gift – the best wank of all time.

Harry had the curtains around his bed shut, and he lay in the nude under his big duvet. Thoughts of being so close to Malfoy the following day had left him concerned and yet horny all day – he wasn't helped in the latter when Ron suddenly burst through the curtains, completely naked.

"Happy Christmas!" Ron smiled as he settled at the end of the bed, crossing his legs. Harry could see Ron's hard on quite clearly, and he watched as Ron wrapped a hand around it and began wanking. "Is it alright if I give you my gift early?"

"Yea...yeah, su-sure," Harry stammered as he became rock hard in seconds.

Ron thrust himself forward, moving on all fours, slowly moving up the bed. His dick was firmly standing straight, gracing the duvet as he moved. With a hand, Ron yanked back the covers and exposed Harry to the cool air. As he was lined up perfectly with his best friend, he thrust his groin down and their cocks met.

They moaned in unison, and Ron shut his eyes. Harry blushed deeply as he looked at his best friend's face – they were so close that they could kiss...but Harry knew that would be wrong. Boys weren't supposed to do that with other boys. Boys were designed for sex, not love, right?

Forcing testosterone to take over his system, Harry thrust up, grabbed both cocks, and pulled hard; Ron collapsed in pleasure. He was heavy lying atop Harry, but neither really cared.

"I did have something in mind, mate, if you'll wait a second," Ron gasped, breathing deeply. He had almost cum at the touch, and he needed to hold out. With great reluctance he rose up again, and within a minute Ron was once again cross-legged on the bed, but this time he was seated beside Harry (who was lying down).

Ron outstretched his right hand, and grabbed Harry's shaft firmly, and Harry let out a sigh of pleasure. "Okay, now, on the count of three, thrust up as hard as you can," Ron said, moving his left hand to his own dick.

"Right," Harry nodded.

"One, two, three..." Ron said in rapid succession. Just before three, Harry thrust his pelvis into the air, and a pleasure rendered him spineless for a moment; it felt _sooo_ good, and as soon as he had enough energy again, he thrust up again. This continued for thirty seconds, until Harry screamed out a warning that he was going to cum.

Though his mind and body were trying to make him continue, Ron forced himself to let go and stop everything. Harry whimpered miserably, and tried to finish by himself- Ron's powerful hands shot out and stopped him, though.

"Ron! Fuck, mate, c'mon, you can't just keep me waiting," Harry was furious.

"Trust me," Ron whispered, and Harry reluctantly agreed.

Ron made Harry sit up, and when he was in the proper 'erect' position, Ron straddled him and sat in his lap. Their cocks pressed up against each other – they were the same size, and both were oozing precum onto one another. All lubed up and ready to go, Ron provided a hand on their heads, and Harry firmly gripped the bases.

They were able to look at each other, and Harry noticed beads of sweat slowly dripping down Ron's forehead; Ron was mesmerized by Harry's expressions and gasps, and randomly looked over Harry's face.

In unison, they pulled up and down, doing their best to maximize their contact. "First to cum has to jerk the other off tomorrow," Ron stated simply.

"Deal," Harry said with vigour; he immediately sped up, and then reached down and cradled his best friend's balls with his other hand.

Though he made a valiant effort, it was too much for Ron – he came with a shout and shot his small load, coating their fingers and Harry's cock.

The feeling of cum and Ron's hand rubbing over his cock was quickly too much for Harry; he climaxed shortly after Ron. Because he had been hard for a while now, and had been close to coming once before, he shot more than he ever had, and more fiercely too. One, two, three, four ribbons of white cum sprayed onto Ron's chest, hitting his stomach and nipples.

They both fell back, in their own directions, and were ready to fall asleep, when a sudden thought passed through both their minds: _Hermione!_

"We've got to clean up and get back to bed," Harry said as he grabbed a handful of tissue from his nightstand. He gave some to Ron while using a few to clean himself up too. Thirty seconds later they were moderately clean.

"Happy Christmas," Ron smiled as he leapt over to his own bed, "there'll be more tomorrow,"

All thoughts of Malfoy left Harry's head for the time being, and he fell asleep with a contented smile.

_Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron _... _were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both_.


	16. Chapter 16: The Polyjuice Problem

**In Chapter 12 again, CoS, as Harry prepares to take the polyjuice potion. Italics denote the book's text.**

_"Good thinking," said Ron, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate cubicles."_

_ Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice potion, Harry slipped into the middle cubicle._ He was extremely tense today, and worried about what his body – or, rather, Goyle's body – would do when he came so close to Draco Malfoy.

In order to circumvent the problem, Harry had gone to the library, and looked in the medical books. Though the spell he had learned was meant to keep limbs soft (when they had seized up or been broken), he was fairly confident that his spell would keep him flaccid until after the potion wore off. He pulled down his pants, aimed his wand at his cock, and took a deep breath.

"Moli!" Harry whispered; he didn't feel anything happen, but a hope and a prayer would still go further than no hope at all. Resolute, Harry pulled his pants up once more, pocketed his wand, and prepared for the horrible drink.

"_Ready?" he called._

"_Ready," came Ron and Hermione's voices._

...moving forwards...

_A voice suddenly echoed behind Harry and Ron. Draco Malfoy was strolling towards them, and for the first time in his life _for an asexual purpose, _Harry was pleased to see him._

"_There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you two been pigging out again? I've been looking for you, I want to show you something really funny."_

"What? Malfoy shares with his friends?" Harry thought to himself. The thought caused blood to surge south, and his proximity didn't help; however, the spell did, and he remained soft.

_Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy._

...moving forwards...

"_Well go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the _Daily Prophet_ hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns._"

**INSIDE HARRY'S HEAD:**

**ID: **Screw Malfoy! Just fuck him and be done with him; don't give a damn about what he thinks – just use this opportunity for a good screw.

**SUPEREGO: **Have you noticed at all that Draco is only repeating lines from his father?

**ID: **So? He's still saying them – fuck him.

**SUPEREGO: **And that the article was from his father?

**ID: **It was. So what?

**SUPEREGO: **Draco isn't really like this, you know. In fact, he's probably loving and caring too...

**ID: **BULLSHIT! Do you have any proof at all?

**SUPEREGO: **Harry likes him – how could Harry be so attracted to him if Draco was so bad?

**EGO: **I DO NOT LIKE HIM!

**SUPEREGO:** Yes, you do. You wanted to kiss him before.

**ID: **So, if you thought a mass-murderer was cute, would you think he was good?

**SUPEREGO: **That's not what I mean!

Harry had no idea how he had gotten so distracted, and he was rather disturbed by his thoughts.

"_A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in."_

Harry jolted back to reality, feeling a tinge of anger swell in his stomach.

_Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin: "Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes please, Potter? _Can I suck you off, please, Potter, please?"

"Wha'?" Harry sat up straighter, "what do y'mean by suck off?"

"Could you be any more dumb?" Malfoy stared directly into his eyes, "You know, blow job, fellatio...?"

In all honesty, Harry was still confused.

"Put his lips 'round Potter's cock and make him cum," Malfoy made a mocking gesture with his tongue in his mouth.

The spell broke, and Harry swelled to Goyle's length – he didn't want to think about what Goyle looked like down there, so he hunched over and tried to hide the tent in his pants. Ron was embarrassed, and blushed slightly.

[Malfoy] _dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Ron._

"_What's the matter with you two?"_

...moving forward after the chapter finishes...

Harry and Ron went off to bed alone after dropping Hermione off at the Hospital Wing. They were very tired, and so they neglected wanking and simply went to bed.


	17. Chapter 17: Wonders of Invisibility

**We meet in Chapter 15, near the very end. The first lines (in italics) are from the book.**

_ Ron rubbed his eyes, frowning through the moonlight. And then he understood._

"_You don't think – not Moaning Myrtle?"_

"Yeah...let's check it out in the morning!" Harry said excitedly.

Ron went back to sleep, but Harry had Malfoy on the brain. The boy had been too cocky today, and Harry felt that he knew more than he was saying. Once he was sure that Ron was asleep, Harry dressed in his pyjamas and threw on his invisibility cloak. He swiftly traveled the halls, not concerned about Slytherin's monster, and within minutes made it to the Slytherin Common Room.

He muttered the despicable password and silently pressed forward. It was still bright down the long corridor; someone had a fire going. Slowing his pace, Harry pressed forwards, and soon came to the main room.

Sitting in a chair, staring into the fireplace, was Draco Malfoy. He had his left hand resting on his chin, while the right was buried in his crotch, pumping furiously. Harry went rock hard immediately. Leaving his decisions to hormones, he quickly and quietly shucked off his pyjamas and left them in a neat little pile near the entrance to the common room. Once he was sure that they would not be discovered, he walked fully nude to the wanking Draco.

A sudden crack from the fire startled Draco, and then he stopped. It frightened Harry, and he was winded for a moment afterwards. He took a few steps back, and Draco stood up. Obviously wary of being caught, Draco strode away, down another corridor.

Harry followed him, ever careful to leave three seconds' distance between them. It took a minute, but eventually Draco reached a huge wooden door. He pushed it open, and Harry slid in before Draco closed the door again. They were now in a dark room, but Draco cast Lumos.

He walked past several beds, then through a small archway, into a more private area. Here was his desk and his bed, secluded from the others thanks to his father's wealth and prestige. Dumbledore had fought the governors fiercely on the matter, but had lost after a long battle.

Draco sat down on the bed, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He was careful to maintain its prestige, and when he finally pulled it off his nude torso, he hung it up in a nearby wardrobe. He didn't care much for his pants, though – those he pulled off instantly and he let them crumple on the floor. Now, both boys were visibly erect and oozing precum; Harry's mouth went completely dry, and as he wrapped a hand around his cock, he fought the urge to pounce on Draco and take him right there.

Harry watched Draco strutting around in his boxers for a moment before he leaped onto his bed. He was just about to pull them off when he sat upright, ended the _lumos_ charm, and closed the curtains around his bed.

Harry whimpered pitifully, and took it upon himself to finish off what Draco had started. Feeling quite dirty, he walked over to Draco's pants, knelt down, stroked, and came on them. He left with a contented smile, and was soon snuggled back into his bed.


	18. Chapter 18: Magazines

**Alrighty...as you can imagine, Harry spent his summer at the Dursleys having fun-for-one with his imagination. But, when he gets to Diagon Alley, there is a change...we pick up in Chapter 4 of the Prisoner of Azkaban. Italics denote the book's text.**

_As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they, too, were ogling the Firebolt; he also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. Harry didn't stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist, and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother. Harry hoped she never found out that he'd pretended to be Neville while on the run from the Ministry of Magic._

After seeing Neville, he went to have a sundae. It was the best yet – it seemed that every day Florean Fortescue was outdoing himself more and more. He salivated over the thought of what tomorrow's would taste like.

He was just about to return to his room when he passed by a store with magazines in the window; for some reason, he hadn't seen the store before, and so decided to go in. It was a wonderful emporium of the written word – it wasn't too big, but every wall was covered in stacks upon stacks of magazines, all with shifting titles and moving covers. Some were exotic, like "The Eastern Wandmaker's Quarterly" or "Merlin's Arcane Spells Annual"; others, though, were straightforward, such as "Chudley Cannon's Weekly" or "Hogwart's Alumni Magazine".

As he perused the shelves, he realized that he was completely alone in the building – if there was a clerk, he or she was nowhere to be found. There were no patrons, either; suddenly, he realized that the store wasn't actually open, for the sign on the window said so! He had somehow managed to get in without breaking in – he needed to leave, now.

He quickly rushed to the front of the store, and as he was about to push open the door, a magazine cover took his breath away – there was a naked woman on the cover.

"Playwizard?" Harry muttered under his breath, grabbing the magazine and ogling the witch on the front. She was absolutely gorgeous...and voluptuous to boot. He suddenly went hard, but didn't give a damn – looking at this picture felt sooo good.

He leaned forward slightly, and unintentionally rubbed his throbbing member against the folds of his robes; loudly, he let a moan escape his lips and he moved a hand down to grab himself.

"Who's there?" A voice came from far away. Harry's hearbeat jumped up to 200 beats per minute as he bolted out the door, magazine safely tucked away under his robes. He didn't stop running until he was up in his room with the door shut.

Wasting no time, he stripped naked, covered the mirror, and then pounced on his bed with the magazine. He was still hard as ever, and as he opened the book of pleasure, he cast silencio around the room.

There were naked women everywhere, doing incredibly...dirty things, sometimes with each other! And the pictures all moved; it was only missing sound.

Harry felt so alive all over his body...erotic feeling pulsed with every heartbeat around his body. With his left hand he maintained a fast pace on his cock, and his right hand felt up his slim torso, down his thighs, and even pinching a nipple. Had anyone seen him at that moment, he surely would have had a heart attack and died on the spot; he remained uninterrupted, though, and with the hair on the back of his neck sticking up, he came.

The only come that could compare to this one was with Ron on Christmas Eve; now, as then, there was way more than usual, and Harry was so utterly turned on that he didn't know what to do with himself, except play. He collapsed onto the bed, but was still within eyesight of the nude women; he didn't go soft at all.

Still hard and willing, Harry rubbed his cock into the bed, pulsing his pelvis with all his might – it looked as though he was trying to actually fuck the bed. He went faster and faster until he came again, spraying onto the covers and a bit on his stomach. Too tired to care about cleaning up, Harry fell asleep and took a nap.

When he awoke an hour later, he was not happy having to clean up the dried come around him. He took a shower, cleaned the duvet and sheets, and then hid the magazine under his pillow for later.

"I've got to show this to Ron!" He thought.

_Harry woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he'd have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned._

**Next time...Draco! **


	19. Chapter 19: I Don't Like That!

**This is meant to happen around Chapter 5, but as JK Rowling is a third person narrator, not really omniscient (yet), she doesn't mention Draco's summer.**

*****  
**Draco was lying on his bed, naked. He wasn't touching himself though – he was just captivated by a feeling of disgust.

It was the early morning, and light was streaming through the large windows in his room; his father was out for the week, and his mother had gone to town with some of the elves to shop. He was alone in the house, and though most teenage boys would take the opportunity to prance around in the nude, jerking off wherever it suited them, eating desserts all day, or just enjoy the peace...Draco was not happy.

Due to all of the stress of homework and shopping for school, Draco had not been able to play with himself in five days. He hadn't even looked down, or felt down, for fear that he would get distracted from the more vital itineraries of the week. However, today, having accomplished all that he needed to, he had shucked off his pyjamas to find...

To find...

...

Hair. Down there. Just a little tiny patch of it, that couldn't have been there for much more than a day. But it was gross. It wasn't right – Draco felt that his pristine skin had been pierced and scarred by this unwanted intrusion. Why, oh sweet god, why was this happening to him?

He had always been conscious of the fact that men had hair under their armpits, or on their chests and legs, but he had never thought that it would be..._around his cock._

This had put him in a bad mood, and he hadn't been able to get hard, no matter how much he thought of Potter or anything else that could do the job. It wasn't working anymore!

After being awake for half an hour, he finally took it upon himself to get up. He didn't bother with clothes, for his mum wouldn't be back for hours, and unless they were called, the elves liked to stay hidden. He exited his room, walked down the master staircase, across the foyer, and into the kitchen – all nude.

It was a simple breakfast – just eggs, bacon, orange juice, a waffle, and some hot chocolate. He was impressed with himself for making all of it, and this put him in a slightly better mood. When he finished, he realized that being naked alone in a huge house made him rather cold. What was the solution? A nice, warm bath.

The Malfoys owning a manor, and not a house, conferred certain luxuries upon its occupants. One of which was, much to Draco's enjoyment, a magnificent and huge bath. He had heard tales of the one that the prefects got to use, and that his was about the same size; he liked this privacy better, though.

After waiting five minutes (thank god for enchanted bathtubs), he dived into a pool of hot water and bubbles. Thanks to a convenient spell, he was able to see underwater without impairing his vision, and so he went for a little exploratory swim...

...and then he came upon a lever, hidden under one of the seats. He pulled, and suddenly a hole opened in the floor and he swam down, then horizontal, and then back up. Surfacing with a great gasp, he surveyed his surroundings – it appeared as though he was in a part of the building he had never seen before. There were no doors in the room; the only entrance must have been the one Draco used.

He got out of the water and onto the marble platform that bordered the bathtub. There were statues around him. Statues of naked...

_Men! And women! And ... a boy?_

Draco walked up to one marble statue, exquisitely carved, of a boy about his age – also completely nude. "Except you _don't _have hair down there," he muttered angrily.

"All you've got to do is shave!" The statue suddenly moved its lips.

Draco jumped a foot back, nearly into the water. "What the fuck?"

"My name's Alcibiades," said the statue, "and you are Draco Malfoy."

"How the fuck do you know that?" Draco was bewildered, and added, "You're a statue!"

"Yes, I am a statue. But I am a special statue," he smiled.

"I can see that, but ... how?"

"Daedalus made me...haven't you ever heard the story?"

"No,"

"Daedalus made statues in ancient Greece, but there was a problem – they wouldn't stay still, and preferred to walk around,"

Draco didn't know what to say, but he did know to cover his cock – he was beginning to get a hard on.

"I was made for boys our age – to act as the perfect form that everyone should strive for," said Alcibiades.

"I'm supposed to be like a marble statue?"

"No, silly!" the statue giggled. Suddenly, in a flash of light, cracks began to form on the statue, and then all of the marble fell off it and onto the ground. There was a great cloud of dust which cause Draco to cough a bit, but when it cleared, it made him gasp.

In front of him now stood a boy roughly his age, if not slightly taller and older, who was utterly gorgeous...and hard as a rock.

"I'm also supposed to teach you a few things," Alcibiades strode forward to meet Draco face to face. Faster than Draco could see, Alcibiades reached a hand down and grabbed Draco's now unhidden cock. He pulled, hard, and then built up a steady rhythm. Draco moaned.

"Fuck...that's h-ho-hottt..." Draco managed to choke out.

"I've been around for twenty four centuries...I know what works,"

Every time Alcibiades smiled, Draco got more aroused – it was as though Draco was getting horny from emotion, and not just physical stimulation. But ... why was this happening with a guy?

The questions flew out of his mind when the hand on his cock suddenly disappeared, and Draco whimpered.

When a pair of lips wrapped around his cock, though...he gave a shout and came instantly. He shot load after load of cum into mouth that was pleasuring him more than he ever had been, and when he was finally spent, he fell backwards into the water with a refreshing splash.

Boneless, he just lay spread eagle, and eventually floated up to the surface. His breathing was heavy, his body was exhausted, but everything had felt just so..._good, sexy, hot, erotic, fun...awesome._

"See you next time!" Alcibiades waved as he took several steps back from the water. He resumed his original stance, and then was a statue of marble once more.

Draco was about to leave the water and try for round two when he was suddenly sucked into the water, back through the passage from whence he had come, and was then dumped into the regular bath. The hole in the ground closed, and the lever vanished.

After surfacing, he quickly got out and towelled off. He dressed and then went to the Manor Library, and though he checked every architectural drawing of the building, he could find no trace of the room he had just been in. He spent the entire afternoon looking and not finding anything.

He scowled all through dinner.


	20. Chapter 20: Sharing

**Alrighty...we pick up in Chapter 4, before dinner with the Weasley family. Italics denote the book.**

_He disappeared and George heaved a sigh._

"_We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry. "But Mum spotted us."_

After a quick laugh, Harry turned to Ron and said, "Come up to my room...I got something really cool from a store nearby,"

"What is it?" Ron asked, his interest piqued, and followed Harry.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked from her seat.

"We'll be back in...oh, half an hour," Harry managed to say between gasps – his heart rate was going up exponentially. He didn't know if Ron would like it, or if Ron still wanted to get off together, or if Ron liked different types of girls, or...

By the time that they had reached Harry's room, Ron had had a pretty good idea of what they were going to do. As such, he stripped down within seconds – had he practiced this summer? – and was hard and wet on Harry's bed before the door was even closed. The mirror was still covered, and after a locking and silencing spell, Harry stripped down and was hard in no time at all. However, instead of the routine grabbing of each other's cocks and wanking til they were satisfied, Harry rummaged through his bags, found the Playwizard, and threw it at Ron.

Ron, who had been lazily stroking himself while watching Harry strut around the room, caught the magazine with his free hand. When he brought it down to eye level and looked at the cover, he blushed deeply and then chuckled...he had heard rumours from Fred and George, but never actually seen one!

"Harry, where'd you get this?" Ron said, though he was obviously too engrossed in the pictures to really give a damn about Harry's answer.

"Store down the way," Harry said, walking over to the bed with his cock in hand. He took one tug, let out a contented moan, and then moved over to the bed. He bade Ron sit up; though they were usually opposite one another for wanking, this time, because they had to share a view, Ron and Harry sat cross legged beside one another.

They were so close that their thighs rested against each other ... Harry found himself more turned on from Ron's touch than the pictures at this point, but didn't care too much. Once Ron flipped the page, he found her – the brunette one.

"Sex on legs," Ron smiled, and began pumping furiously. He went on for a minute, was just about to cum, and then stopped – "I found that if you build up, but don't release...it's better!"

"It's mean," Harry said, remembering their Christmas gift exchange. However, remembering that the release was in fact better, he followed Ron's example. Focusing solely on the picture before them, who was currently playing with her bountiful breasts, Harry tossed off madly for thirty seconds, was just about to cum, and then stopped.

This continued three or four more times as they continued in the book, and as they saw dirtier and hotter pictures.

The centerfold was the time to end it all.

"What the fuck is she putting in her...her...uh, parts?" Harry said, leaning in – it looked like a wand, but who would shove wood in their body?

"It's called a vibrator, Harry," Ron said in a bit of a matter-of-fact tone; he almost sounded like Hermione, but Hermione would NEVER say such things...

"Finish me off, mate, and I'll finish you," Ron said as he let go of his throbbing member, and moved a hand over to rest on Harry's leg.

"Wha?"

"It'll be better, promise," Ron smirked.

Though they had done it plenty of times, this time felt different. To Harry, they were finally doing what they were supposed to – getting off to women. And now, Ron was asking Harry to take his cock in hand and vice verse.

Harry eventually caved, though, and pumped Ron to a quick tempo – it took ten seconds. Way more cum than ever before shot out of Ron as he thrust himself into Harry's hand. Some landed on the witch's picture, some on the bedding, and one shot had cleared the bed entirely and had landed on a curtain. Though he was ready to pass out from exhaustion, Ron followed through with his duty and brought Harry to completion moments later, who also shot a massive load.

The two fell onto each other, with Harry resting his head on Ron's stomach, and Ron outstretched an arm to lie across Harry's stomach. They drifted off to sleep, and had a very pleasant nap until a rapping on the door, about an hour later, woke them up.

With great speed they ran around the room, dabbing up and cleaning the dried come off the furniture, and then towelled themselves off. They threw on their clothes, Harry hid the magazine, and then Ron opened the door and let Hermione in.

"It smells in here...what did you guys do?" she asked, not really hung up on an answer as she walked around in Harry's accommodations.

Behind her back, Ron and Harry winked at each other.

_Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlour and the seven Weasleys, Harry and Hermione ate their way through five delicious courses._

**Hope you enjoyed! Let me know, as always...**


	21. Chapter 21: Three Boys in a Bed

**We resume at the very end of Chapter 5 (of the Prisoner of Azkaban). Starting italics are lines from the book.**

_Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided towards their separate staircases. Harry climbed the spiral stairs with no thought in his head except how glad he was to be back. They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds and Harry, looking around, felt he was home at last._

Harry was just about to drift off when his closed curtains were suddenly pulled back, and Ron jumped in. "Wanna get off tonight?" he asked with a really big smile.

"I'm kind of tired," Harry said; he was still kind of hung up on his Dementor experience, and he hadn't really been up to doing much of anything for the rest of the day.

"It'll be fun!" Ron winked.

"What if someone hears us?" Harry asked, trying to get out of it.

"Silencio will work just fine...you know that," Ron's voice now carried a hint of disappointment.

Harry didn't say anything; he was starting to get aroused, and he knew that he'd get more sleep by relieving himself now instead of ignoring it all night. As best as he could, without alerting Ron, he removed all his clothing under his covers. He then flung his covers up and they landed on Ron's head, blinding him. Harry then pounced forward, toppling Ron over, and rubbed his erection against the covers.

"Fuck you!" Ron laughed as he finally regained his strength, and pushed Harry back. He quickly pulled off his pyjamas, and within minutes, the two were jerking off.

"She was so hot, eh?" Ron said as he increased his tempo.

"Which one?" Harry asked, leaning back casually.

"The centrefold, remember?"

"Ooohhh yeah..."

Suddenly, the curtains were drawn back and Seamus pokes his head in. He was rather groggy, so he began slowly,

"Guys...it's late...what are you...holy fuck!"

Ron quickly covered himself with his pyjama pants, and Harry just hid his cock behind his hands.

Seamus' mouth dropped, and his dick rose.

"Mind if I join in, mates?" Seamus asked after a moment's hesitation. He didn't know where this sudden bravery had come from – he had wanked with other guys before, but never with the _famous Harry Potter_.

Ron looked at Harry, and Harry, Ron. After a moment of talking by gaze, Harry nodded and Ron said "C'mon in!"

"Sweet," Seamus grinned. Knowing that Dean and Neville were asleep, he stripped and then jumped up onto the bed.

Harry was mesmerized...he had seen his own cock and Ron's ... but no one else's. Now, he was staring at Seamus' dick, licking his lips unconsciously. The cock was slightly longer than either his or Ron's, but his balls were just like his.

After a moment of settling himself, Seamus began stroking himself. "We wanking to anything in particular tonight, lads?"

"We were talking about a Playwizard model..." Ron said, doing his best to keep his eyes on the bed posts and not on either of his friends.

"But I haven't really unpacked yet, so the magazine isn't out yet," he said, thrusting out slightly and moving his hand down further, nearer the base of his cock.

Seamus couldn't give a damn about Playwizard...he was now fixated on Harry's cock...so pure, so hard, and just _beautiful_. This fuelled a bit of bravado, and Seamus suddenly piped up,

"Can I show you guys a technique?"

The other two were confused...they knew plenty of techniques already. However, they were game, so they stopped stroking so as to watch.

"Well," Seamus coughed lightly, "I need to demonstrate it more than show it," he looked at Harry, who nodded in confusion.

With lightning speed, Seamus' hand reached out and grabbed Harry's cock, except that the fist was upside down, so that the thumb could stroke the balls. The foreign hand stroked once, and Harry came with a violent spray; some of his cum splashed on Seamus' chest, and then rolled down his stomach. Seamus gave a laugh as he became impossibly harder.

When he did the same to Ron, it took a little bit more effort than expected, but Seamus quickly got Ron off too. The cum didn't spray as far, but a lot landed on Harry's sheets.

"Alrighty," Seamus said, surveying Harry and Ron as they lay there, oozing sex and eroticism as they exposed themselves to the boy. Seamus, using them as material, came quickly; as a more experienced wizard, he had much more to provide...he managed to get Harry back as some cum landed on Harry's thigh.

"That was bloody awesome," Harry laughed, feeling the cum on his body begin to cool, "but I need to rest,"

"Agreed," Seamus said out of habit, though he wished he could go again. He opened the curtains, gathered his things, and then went to his own bed. Shutting his curtains, he cast _silencio_ and then wanked off yet again to the two hot boys he had just been with.

Ron was more sluggish, but cast a cleaning spell before leaving Harry. He just plopped into bed and fell asleep.

Harry couldn't give a damn about staying awake anymore...with a final sigh, he passed out, completely nude, with the sheets beneath him.

_When Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing they saw was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story._

**Not too much, but I liked it! What'd you think?**


	22. Chapter 22: Feelings

**! We resume in Chapter 6...you'll be able to guess the context. Italics, as always, denote the book.**

_Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backwards from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched._

_Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful._

"_This is very easy," Malfoy _said,_ loud enough for Harry to hear him _– he needed Harry to know that he too could master beasts. _"I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it ... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you ugly great brute?"_

_It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high-pitched scream, and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes._

Harry rushed over to Draco, moreso out of his instinct to help rather than because of his conscious desires. The rest of the class was too shocked to do anything.

There were tears dripping from Draco's closed eyes, and Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for him...watching him writhe in pain caused a great lump in Harry's throat. Not really thinking, he put a hand on either side of the wound, applying pressure – it wasn't too deep, but it had definitely hit severely.

Flowing blood impartially embraced Draco's arm, and some of it flowed onto Harry's hands – he couldn't give a damn, though, because he had to help; Hagrid was having one hell of a time with Buckbeak, and the class was silent.

"You'll be okay, m-Malfoy," Harry murmured; for some reason, his eyes were now taking in Draco's lithe torso, and a hint of an erection formed in his pants. He was no longer focused on the wounded Draco as much as the ... very good looking, spread-eagle-and-on-display Draco.

"H-help m-m-me...Potter," Draco moaned through another onset of tears; this finally snapped Harry back to reality, and his erection died. Harry was just about to grab his wand when Draco shouted,

"_I'm dying!" _he_ yelled, as the class _continued to panic. _"I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"_

"_Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me – gotta get him outta here" _

_Hermione ran to open the gate while Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily_, leaving Harry alone on the bloody grass. _As they _walked_, Harry _fully _saw _the_ long, deep gash in Malfoy's arm; blood splattered _again onto _the grass and Hagrid ran with him up the slope towards the castle._

_Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid._

_..._moving forwards ...

_Hagrid strode over to Harry, grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door._

"_C'mon!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"_

The march back was awful, and it was made in silence. No one wanted to talk with each other, and when they got up to bed, Harry and Ron said a fleeting goodnight to Hermione and then to one another before climbing into their own beds. Ron was quick to fall asleep, but Harry's mind was racing. He had to see if Draco was alright.

Donning his invisibility cloak, he silently slipped out of the Gryffindor tower and within five minutes he was at the Hospital Wing. It was only 9:00 at night, so the doors were still open for visitors. He proceeded ahead, careful to make sure his steps could not be heard.

The door to Madam Pomfrey's office was closed, and there was only one occupant in the Wing: Draco Malfoy. However, he had a visitor – Harry immediately knew her to be Pansy Parkinson, and he could tell from her voice that she wasn't happy.

Harry moved closer to see Draco, lying on his side, his back to Pansy. His face betrayed his emotions at the time, for a tear had made its course down the side of one of his cheeks, and his lip quivered.

"Look at me, Drakey..." she said through a choked voice, "You won't look at me anymore...or talk to me..."

Draco mumbled something along the lines of 'Fuck Off', but she didn't show any sign that she had heard it.

"Just go away," he said a bit louder.

"But Draco..." Pansy whispered, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"NO!" he yelled loudly. "Stop fucking around and get out. I don't like; never did, never will!"

"You don't mean that," Pansy stood up.

"I do!" Draco returned to a quiet voice.

The air was silent for a minute or two, save for one or two sobs from Pansy.

"Good night!" She said in a malicious voice as she stomped out of the room.

After she was gone, Draco whispered, "I _can't _like you."

Harry's jaw dropped – what did he mean? He stood still, gazing at Draco – he was shirtless so that his bandages could be open to the air; Harry was mesmerized by the boy's soft, perfectly sculpted ivory skin. He went from 0 to HARD in a millisecond, and he reached one hand down to wrap around his shaft.

However, Harry could not continue, because Draco broke out into open sobs at this point. He mumbled incoherently, but Harry heard five words quite clearly:

"But I can't like Potter!"

Harry bolted, doing his best to maintain speed and yet keep under his cloak. As soon as he got to his bed, he jumped in, wrapped himself in his covers, and grew hard again. However, he fought the urge to wank – for some reason, Draco's admission had been more pure than any sexual fantasy that Harry had been able to think up.

He went to bed a very confused boy.

**I think this marks the beginning of the Adult Themes plot...but that doesn't mean that the smut and literature will disappear...on the contrary!**

**Would love to know what you think!**


	23. Chapter 23: Beauty Is

**We pick up in the gray area between Chapter 6 and Chapter 7, just after Harry's visit to Draco in the Hospital Wing. Italics denote my own writing, from last chapter.**

_Harry bolted, doing his best to maintain speed and yet keep under his cloak. As soon as he got to his bed, he jumped in, wrapped himself in his covers, and grew hard again. However, he fought the urge to wank – for some reason, Draco's admission had been more pure than any sexual fantasy that Harry had been able to think up. _

_He went to bed a very confused boy._

The next evening, he and Ron found themselves alone in their bedroom. Dean and Seamus had both gotten detention for some prank (it was really Fred and George's fault – _they_ made the two of them do it). Neville was off in the library, worriedly perusing the stacks for something to write about for an essay.

Hermione had left them alone as she was focused on a Muggle Studies project – no one still knew how she had the time, but somehow, she did.

Harry was lying on his stomach on his bed, legs up in the air, flipping through their potions textbook; Ron, however, was more distracted, and casually rubbing himself as he stared at the ceiling of his bed's canopy.

"Who's your perfect woman, Ron?" Harry asked quite suddenly; Ron yanked his hand out of his trousers and took a deep breath.

"What d'you mean?"

"Is she tall or short?"

Ron paused for a moment, before replying, "I'd like her to be a couple of inches shorter than me. You?"

"My height," Harry said without thinking, "Hair colour?"

"Definately brunette...can't go with anything else."

"I think...I'd like a blonde,"

Ron sat up, and looked over at Harry, "like who?"

Harry blushed a bit, and then quickly retorted, "like that girl on the last page,"

"Yeah, she was something, wasn't she?" Ron lay back down, contented. "I'd want my girl to be kind of thin, but with nice big tits,"

_That's kind of vulgar_, Harry thought to himself, before continuing "mine would be athletic but pristine...nice and slim."

"Meh..." Ron added.

Ron's comment temporarily ended the conversation – he didn't have anything to say, and Harry was working up his confidence to ask his next question.

"Do you find any other types of girls attractive?" Harry swallowed, stammering, "or, uh, m-mayb-be a g-guy?"

"A guy? Ew...gross," Ron said in an as-a-matter-of-fact voice, "I like wanking with you, Harry, but that doesn't mean that I think you're _good looking_ or anything."

"I know," Harry piped in before Ron finished his sentence, "j-just, uh, y'know, checkin',"

Harry smiled weakly, and Ron shrugged.

An awkward silence filled the room, but Harry was sure that Ron could hear the sounds of his heart beating 300 beats per minute and of his hardened cock rubbing into the bed.

"Speaking of which," Ron said after a minute more, "Wanna get off before everyone else gets back?"

"Not really, should keep reading," Harry answered.

"Y'know it'll be fun," Ron rolled off the bed and walked over to Harry, pointing out the tent in his trousers.

"No," Harry said in a very forceful voice. Ron took a step back, wilted a bit, and then angrily said "you don't have to bite my head off,"

"Just...take care of it yourself," Harry replied, softening his tone.

"Yeah, I think I _will,_" said Ron through grit teeth. He walked over to the washrooms, and then slammed the door behind him.

A wave of tears suddenly hit Harry, and he couldn't compose himself...instead, as soon as the shower turned on, he started crying. Would Ron hate him if he knew that he...maybe found _Malfoy_ attractive? What would he think? Would they stop getting off together? Would they stop being friends?

He had made it through eleven years at the Dursleys without so much as a tear; for the first time, at Hogwarts – his _real_ home – he cried himself to sleep.


	24. Chapter 24: Suck It Up

**We are still in the grey area between Chapters 6 and 7.**

Harry woke the next morning early, before anyone else; he didn't plan on it, but something inside of him told him to get up and down to breakfast before Ron woke up. He was still miserable, so he ate in silence, alone. As he finished up, Hermione sat down opposite him, with a glare on her face.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, her eyes fixed on him.

"Dunno...maybe an hour or so." Harry shrugged.

"Well, Ron freaked out because you suddenly disappeared without telling anyone," she scolded.

"I didn't want to wake him up,"

"He's worried about you, you know," Hermione's tone turned grim, "as am I."

"Why the fuck should you care about me so much?" He shot back; the word _fuck_ caused Hermione to twitch slightly, but Harry couldn't care less.

"Because – "

"Because _Sirius Black_ is going to _kill_ me if I'm not with someone else at all times?" Harry took a croissant from a nearby dish and took a bite, "I can do _things_ by myself, you know, like eat _fucking_ breakfast."

He didn't see her hand fly across the table, but he certainly felt it as it smacked him hard on the cheek, "Stop swearing!"

They sat in silence for the next minute, save for Harry taking another bite of croissant.

"Listen, Hermione, I've ju-just, got, a lot on my plate, y'know?"

Hermione laughed, "you think you've got a lot to do! You should see my schedule,"

"I have, and it's a joke," Harry perked up slightly.

"But...what kind of stuff are you dealing with?"

"I...thought I might like someone..."

"Oh?" Hermione assumed that annoying smirk of a woman receiving a secret, ready to pounce for more information, "who?"

"Name's not important..." Harry started to garble his words,

"Is she a Gryffindor?" Hermione winked,

"No," Harry said coldly.

"Is she a Ravenclaw?"

"No...but...it's not just who I like..." Harry gulped...could he really tell Hermione and be safe with it? _No_, his mind thought, and so he just continued, "but I'm getting scared of this whole 'grim' issue"

"Oh Harry, c'mon, you _know_ that that's stupid hokey pokey. You are not going to die!"

_Mission accomplished_, Harry thought, _Hermione has been distracted!_

"But back to who you like,"

_Fuck her and her memory...sigh..._

"I don't like, uh, _her_ anymore...I thought maybe, but I don't think so anymore."

"You _do_ realize that you just told me nothing, right?"

"Just...drop it, okay, please?"

"Will you tell me in a more secret place," Hermione asked after a moment's silence,

"NO! I'm also...worried about Hagrid...Malfoy got hurt pretty bad, y'know, and if he doesn't get better than Hagrid might get fired!"

"Listen, Pansy said that he's just milking it at this point, and you know that Madam Pomfrey doesn't mess around anyways."

"When did you talk to Pansy?" Harry piqued an eyebrow.

"Just for ten seconds in the washroom...we didn't _actually_ talk about anything, but I asked if Malfoy was alright, and she told me,"

Hermione began filling a plate, and Harry's mind began to wander, "what if it had been me who got attacked, and not Malfoy?"

"What does that matter? Plus, you're not stupid enough to do anything like that, Harry," Hermione said between sips of orange juice.

"Think Hagrid would feel more guilty?"

"Oh, definitely..."

"He still looks pretty unhappy," Harry recalled Hagrid's moody appearance during the previous meals – he hadn't tried to speak to any teacher, and had barely eaten.

"Oh look, here comes Ron," Hermione suddenly changed the topic, noticing Ron coming through the tall doors of the Great Hall.

"I should go...I've got to read before class,"

Hermione didn't believe a word of the "reading", but she simply nodded as she watched him bolt away.

"Morning," she smiled at Ron,

"Morning," he mumbled.


	25. Chapter 25: The Hospital Wing

**So, we are still in the grey area between chapters 6 and 7...for the last time, I promise, just following where we last left off.**

Harry was quickly running up the steps away from the Great Hall when a sudden barking startled him. He spun around, noticing the painting behind him; it was of a great black dog, and it appeared to be very angry with Harry. Scared, he bolted forwards before he was able to fully turn his head around ...

...and he missed the fact that the stairway was changing at the time. As a result, he was suddenly running in the air, before plummeting three storeys to the ground. He landed with a resounding _crunch_, and blacked out.

The next thing he knew he was in the Hospital Wing, his leg strung up in a sling, and his head pounding.

"Took a nasty fall, lad," Madam Pomfrey said nearby as she closed the draperies, "but I think you'll be alright soon enough. Just going to keep you hear tonight to set and heal the bones."

"What time is it?" Harry asked groggily.

"It's about seven o'clock in the evening – you've been out for a while."

Harry stared up at the ceiling, and he could hear his brain laughing at him for being so stupid.

Madam Pomfrey shuffled away, humming to herself, before slamming the large wooden door to her office. Letting out a sigh, Harry closed his eyes and prayed to go back to sleep.

"What're you here for, Potter?" Malfoy's voice shot out through the silence, comforting Harry as an iron maiden comforts a man who needs a bed.

"None of your business, Malfoy," Harry sat up, looking around for his nemesis/crush: he was sitting up in a bed just across from him, wearing a comfortable set of clothes, a sling round his arm, and reading his Potions textbook.

"Pass out from your shadow?" Malfoy smirked.

"Fuck you," Harry said as he tried, in vain, to worm out of his bed and grab his wand nearby.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," Malfoy said before returning to his book.

Harry was peeved, but the other boy was right; so, he just settled down and lay back. Had he the means, he would have shot a quick and tidy _expelliarmus_ and be done with it, but for now – he'd have to lie there and take the abuse.

"Your friends were here earlier," Malfoy said after several minutes, breaking the silence, "in case you were wondering,"

"Huh?" Harry did not know what to say...why would Malfoy give a shit? Or even tell him.

"The Weasel was silent as a dementor, and the mudblood was ... "

_Oh, that's why_, Harry thought, _he just wanted to insult my friends. Great. Fuck him._

"I don't care, Malfoy," Harry said nonchalantly, taking a deep breath, "but I don't see any Crabbe and Goyle here to comfort you in your _time of need_,"

"They aren't my _friends_, Potter," Malfoy put the book down, staring across to Harry, "I think of them more as hired help,"

"You have to pay people to hang around with you?" Harry snickered,

"No," Malfoy immediately replied in a cross voice, "I have plenty of friends in Slytherin – the only house worth caring for –"

"I don't see any here,"

"They're busy,"

"Yeah...sure..."

_Shut the fuck up, Potter_, Malfoy thought angrily; rather than continue the aggravating conversation, he returned his attention to his book, trying hard not to pay any attention to the hard on that was slowly growing in his pants.

"Is there anyone else here?" Harry asked suddenly, noting that he couldn't really move his neck without help.

"Nope...just you and I..."

"Fuck my life," Harry mumbled under his breath.

**THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW, FOLLOWING HARRY:**

It was 11:58 at night, and Harry was still wide awake. Malfoy was breathing lightly across from him, and for all Harry could tell, Malfoy was sound asleep.

Harry had a problem; since Madam Pomfrey had come into the room about an hour prior, snuffing the candles and making the bed for Harry, Harry had been hard. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen Malfoy strip off his shirt to go to sleep, and ... his erection said it all.

Having been terrified to touch himself before he was certain Malfoy was asleep, he finally snaked his arm down his body, tracing over his stomach, and reaching down to his cock. Now up to five inches with a dusting of pubic hair, Harry was on the track to maturity, making good time. Especially compared to Ron – they had measured the night before Malfoy was hurt by Buckbeak, and Ron was a paltry four-and-a-half, without any hair!

Harry pulled on his cock lazily at first, though he was being extremely careful not to make noise, lest he wake up Malfoy. Eventually his courage rose, and he slid his pants down and grabbed hold. It felt so good to wank again, but having his sheet overtop him was causing a slight noise.

To resolve the situation, he pulled back the sheets, and exposed himself to the open air – he let out a small gasp as the cool air wrapped around his naked cock. The fact that he was now naked and close to Malfoy than ever in such a situation caused him to harden impossibly further. With a slight kinkiness, he pushed his hard member towards Draco, then pulled.

**THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW, FOLLOWING DRACO.**

Draco's eyes shot open; he had been snoozing peacefully until the rustle of sheets had woken him. Slightly pissed off, he slowly rose his gaze to glare at Harry...but instead of looking straight into Harry's eyes, he was looking at the leaking head of Potter's dick. His breath caught in his throat, and he couldn't utter a sound – he was simply mesmerized by the sight.

_Potter is...wanking? With me here? What a fucking twat!_ Draco thought as he felt his cock surge, _but I can't possibly wank while he's still awake!_

Draco kept his eyes open – luckily, because it was dark, he was able to stare at the silhouette of his crush without fear of being sighted. He rearranged his cock in his pants so that it was held down by his waist band, and he listened.

Harry went slowly for about five minutes, and then inexplicably sped up. He put one of his hands down to cradle his balls, and he shot his load up in the air with a loud grunt. Obviously too aroused to care whether or not Draco heard him, Harry outstretched a hand, wiped off the cum that had landed all up his chest, sighed contentedly, pulled up his sheets, and within five minutes, began to snore.

The moment that the snoring started, Draco shucked off his clothes and his sheets and enjoyed the serenity of his nudity. His erection was throbbing right now, and begging to be touched; Draco indulged it, and took only a minute to cum; thinking of Harry's cock gave him all of the material he needed.

He was significantly cleaner than Potter, able to perform a cleaning spell to cleanse the sheets of his work. After lazily debating the merits of sleeping naked, he eventually sat up, pulled on his pyjamas once more, and then fell asleep.

The next morning, Harry was discharged. However, _Malfoy didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through their double Potions._


	26. Chapter 26: Reconsiderations

**Okay, in my two cents, the back-and-forth between Draco and Harry in Chapter 7 works for this story, so it is staying as is. As such, we are jumping forth, to Chapter 8. Starting and ending italics denote passages from the book (Still Prisoner of Azkaban, I'm afraid...patience!).**

"_That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"_

_Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boy's dormitory._

Harry quickly ran up the stairs behind him, after mouthing a polite "I'll go talk to him" to Hermione. He got up to the dorm landing just in time to have Ron slam the door on him. Not really wanting to make much of a fuss, Harry gently rapped on the door once...twice...three times.

"GO AWAY, HERMIONE!" Ron's voice bellowed from the room.

Harry cautiously opened the door and poked his head in, "it's only me, Ron,"

Ron grunted his permission for Harry to enter the room. Harry swiftly closed the door behind him, locked it, and then strode over to his best friend (who was sitting on his bed).

"Why did she have to get _that_ bloody fucking monster of a cat?" Ron asked miserably.

"She...I guess that she was feeling left out, mate," Harry sat on his own bed, facing Ron, "I mean, you've always had Scabbers, Hagrid bought me Hedwig before we knew each other...and Hermione's never had a pet."

Ron sighed, and nodded slightly. "But it's still a stupid creature that wants to _murder_ Scabbers,"

"Okay...Ron...calm down," Harry said jokingly.

Though Ron was on the verge of a "you don't know what it's like" rant, the fact that Harry had faced an evil wizard. with a stupid name, to the death before put that argument away.

"So..." Ron looked Harry in the eyes,

"So?" Harry gazed back.

"We haven't gotten off in a long while together...and the rest of them all think you're trying to, uh, _console_ me," Ron looked so close to winking that Harry was slightly afraid.

"True,"

"And I'm already fucking horny," Ron said, pointing to his trousers; just beyond the folds Harry could make out the tent in his pants, "I mean, I haven't gotten off in a few days, come to think of it."

Harry was hard instantly; but instead of his previous reserve and caution, he decided to hell with it all, and he was naked quicker then Ron could blink. Showing off his larger erection, Harry strutted over to Ron and shoved his hands down Ron's pants.

"Oh, _fuck_, Harry!" Ron's voice climbed an octave as the warm hand grabbed his hot tool; all the blood from his brain had gone south, but Ron had enough IQ points to also strip down.

"Door locked?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded, and then grabbed his wand and cast a cautionary _silencio_.

"I've got an idea," said Harry, staring at Ron's cock,

"Yeah," came Ron's husky reply.

"There were a couple of sixth years talking about great ways to get off with each other, the other day, outside the hospital wing," Harry lied, embellishing so as to allay suspicion, "and they had a pretty cool sounding technique. "

"Uh huh," Ron grabbed a hold of Harry's cock, beginning gently around the tip, thumbing over the slit and rubbing around Harry's precum. Though slightly envious of Harry's rapid development, he knew that he would soon surpass his friend; he had accidently glimpsed Bill wanking in Egypt, and Bill was definitely big and ... hairy.

"We both lie on the bed, facing each other,"

_That sounds kind of queer_, Ron thought, using his free hand to cup Harry's balls, _but sounds good so far_.

"Well, uh, facing each other's cock...you see, I'm lying with my head near the pillows, and you will have your head near the foot of the bed. Apparently, because we can see what we are actually doing, we can get off, _ahh_, better," Harry moaned as Ron's tempo increased.

"K" mumbled Ron, though he was perfectly happy to just stay and stroke. Harry pulled back, removing his hands from Ron's cock and freeing himself. He leapt up onto the bed, and lay down on his side. Following the plan, Ron climbed up onto the bed, but shuffled down so that he could gaze on Harry's throbbing erection, and vice verse.

Harry was the first to begin the process, though he took it very slow...instead of just helping his friend get off, he had other motives. He was now staring at another cock, up close and personal, just inches from his face. So as not to obscure the view, he was using a two-fingered touch, gently caressing Ron's member.

Ron, on the other hand, was much too horny to care about gentility; he grabbed hold and started pumping like there was no tomorrow. Using a bit of spit from his mouth, he lubed Harry's cock until it was glistening in the lamp light – grossly, it looked like someone had sucked on it! That didn't matter too much though, because Ron had a goal: to cum.

Meanwhile, Harry was still dazzled by Ron's privates – he examined the veins that were underneath the cock, the way that Ron's slit was offering just a little taste of his juices with the promise of more, the way that –

"C'mon mate, pick up the pace!" Ron demanded.

"K," Harry grumbled. He evolved his stroking so as to include both hands, and he felt Ron do the same.

Staring at Ron's cock gave Harry a powerful surge of arousal, and he yelled out "coming!" Ron was able to close his eyes, lift his head, and he stroked once more...Harry shot his load with great force onto Ron's neck and upper chest. Slightly more aroused, Ron began to seize up.

Harry, however, was both revelling in his orgasm and admiring Ron's cock – so, when Ron came Harry was not prepared. He felt especially stupid when Ron began to shoot and he had no clue; he felt worse when a bead of cum flew into his eye.

"FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!" Harry yelled, rolling off the bed and landing on the floor with a loud thump. His erection died mercilessly, and he raised his hands to rub his eyes.

"What?" Ron asked, peering over the side of the bed to look at his best friend, rolling around in pain, nude, on the floor.

"You came _in my eye!_" Harry groaned, fighting back a small wave of tears.

"Fuck, sorry mate," Ron said, reaching up to his neck – he began to wipe the cum off as Harry began to relax.

"I warned you!" Harry glared at Ron with his one good eye.

"It just felt so good..."

"Thanks?" Harry asked, lying back and chuckling slightly. He took in the situation, and realizing that he was fully on display for Ron, showing off his slim figure and fit physique, he got hard again.

"I'll warn you next time," Ron promised,

"Shall we do it again now?" Harry asked, sitting up; his eye was starting to feel better.

"Yeah...but the normal way, sitting up?"

"Please," Harry smiled.

It took slightly longer – roughly ten minutes – for the two of them to cum again, and when they did, they made sure that it was safe. Harry intentionally shot at Ron's stomach, and Ron was kind enough to cum on Harry's sheets. Sated and sweaty, the two unlocked the door and then hopped into their individual showers to clean up.

However, for all the fun that they had that night, _Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione the next day_.

**What'd you think? Harry's starting to get comfortable with his sexuality...but does he know what this all means!**

**Stay tuned...**


	27. Chapter 27: Draco's Hogsmeade

**We pick up at the very end of Chapter 8, though no passages from the book (this is Draco's turn!)...**

*****  
**Draco had spent his day at Hogsmeade tailing Hermione and Ron, hoping that he would catch a glimpse of Harry Potter – but it was all to no avail, and when he realized as much he sent Crabbe and Goyle away to the Three Broomsticks while he wandered around the village aimlessly.

"Fucking Potter," he had grumbled as he kicked through the fallen leaves, "grow a spine!"

It had been the oldest trick in the book, and one that his father had taken care to teach Draco: in order to make your enemy (or crush, as Draco interpreted it) do something, you must challenge their ability to do it. It seemed like taunting Harry's fear of Dementors would make him come to Hogsmeade and show Draco wrong – and then Draco could pounce.

After too many wet dreams and a couple of annoyingly strong urges to jerk off in the middle of classes, Draco had begun to admit to himself that he actually wanted to do something with Harry...or at least find out if Potter felt the same way about him. Had Harry been at Hogsmeade, Draco would have separated Potter from his friends (thanks to his muscular backups) and forced him to...

And that was as far as he had got in his plan. And then there was nothing. Nothing more. Nothing that could bring them together.

This fact kept him occupied throughout the day; not even Sirius Black's intrusion into the building distracted him from his thoughts...but once he was in the Great Hall, Fate threw him a bone. Well, technically, she threw him a boner.

In one of Dumbledore's daffy decisions, the Slytherins had been put in a line against the wall, and right beside them were the Gryffindors, and then the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. In a strange twist of circumstances, Draco was one across and over from Harry Potter...and he was given a perfect view of the vision that was the sleeping Harry.

When the lights had gone off, the Slytherins had been the first to fall asleep – all save for Draco. He was too fixated on Harry, and once the Head Boy had passed by, he had stripped in his sleeping bag, so that he was nude underneath. One gaze of Harry's peaceful face brought him to full force, and with the utmost carefulness he stroked himself. Any movement caused the sound of a rustle in his sleeping bag, and after a minute he gave up with his hands, and lay down on his stomach; resting his member between his stomach and the cushion beneath him, he began to thrust forwards, all the while staring at Harry. The way that his hair stuck up at the back, just begging to have a hand run through it while making out with him, beckoned Draco closer to orgasm. Harry's soft features, the cheeks that were just on the verge of losing their child pudginess in favour of adult definitions, were calling to Draco to ghost a hand over them; and his lips were, in a very miniscule way, pursed together, and Draco wanted to leap over and kiss him...maybe he could shove something else through them?

Draco inhaled sharply, quivered, and came in the sleeping bag; his noise, however, attracted the unwanted attention of Percy, who rose from his chair on the other side of the room. Thinking quickly, Draco coughed, rolled onto his back, and shut his eyes. He heard Percy's footsteps as he walked by, stop near him, and then continue on.

"FUCK!" Draco thought in the comfort of his own mind – he had rubbed his come into his back and the sleeping bag, and if he were to utter a cleaning spell, he would surely be discovered. Angrily, he lay back, feeling the cooling liquid coat his skin, and eventually fell asleep. Next morning he was itchy and irritable, but he perked up when he found out that he could sleep in his own room the next night.

**There will be a surprise in the Hospital Wing next chapter...**

**Please R/R if you liked, or didn't!**


	28. Chapter 28: The Real Dream

**Starting and ending italics are from the book.**

_For Harry knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. He had heard her words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while he lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling. When the Dementors approached him, he heard the last moments of his mother's life, her attempts to protect him, Harry, from Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort's laughter before he murdered her...Harry dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake only to dwell again on the sound of his mother's voice._

Around two in the morning, when Harry finally rolled over back to sleep again, a different dream began – one which he had definitely not expected amidst his current troubles. He was in a dark room, alone, in his pyjamas; except, instead of feeling scared or in anticipation of some horrible thing to happen, he felt ...fine. He was in a bed – one _much_ comfier than the one in the hospital wing – with his eyes closed, feeling the soft wind from a summer's eve blow in through the window, gently caressing his bare chest.

He couldn't see anything – it was too dark – but as a result, his other senses perked up; he could smell the freshness of the air, hear the crickets off in the fields, and feel the soft linen that was draped over him.

Suddenly, he heard a footstep near his right; his breathing sped up, and though he was tempted to sit up and try to see what was going on, something inside him told him not to.

The footsteps drew closer, closer, _closer_, and then stopped, when whoever it was was just beside the bed. Harry could hear the other person breathing – it sounded like a man's breath, oh no wait, it was too high, it must be that of someone his own age...

Harry heard a _swoosh_ of clothing as the boy leaned in closer near Harry, and then suddenly lips were pressed against his...

_WTF? Who is KISSING me?_ Harry thought, his heart speeding up.

It didn't feel bad though, and after a moment held in embrace, Harry could feel his cock stirring. His eyes were open and he was trying to see who was doing this to him, but it was to absolutely no avail; it seemed impossible for it to be so dark!

The other boy broke away, and Harry seized the opportunity; he grabbed the boy by his shirt, pulled him close once more, and then asked, "who _are_ you?"

His response was another kiss and a hand ghosting over his clothed erection; it rubbed the head ever so gently, before reaching down and gripping the inside of his thigh, massaging it slightly. The boy broke the kiss a second later, and used his other hand to grab his throbbing cock.

"Oh, _fuck_," Harry pressed his head into the pillow and thrust his hips forwards, "d-don't...don't sto, _ah_, -op"

"Won't" came a mumbled and unrecognizable voice; Harry wanted to ask who was doing this to him, but he wouldn't be able to bear it if the boy stopped what he was doing.

The boy moved the hand that was stroking Harry's thigh up to his face, stroking down Harry's jawline, before he kissed Harry again. Harry was close, and when the boy snaked a hand down Harry's bare chest, just past his belly button –

"AH!"

Harry came with a very loud gasp, creaming his pyjama pants, thrusting up – the other boy hadn't even touched his cock and yet he provoked this reaction. His breathing began to slow down, and suddenly both hands left him and he heard footsteps running away. The boy whispered something from a distance, and then ...

Harry woke up, drenched in come and sweat. He opened his eyes and looked around – there was nobody there.

Sighing, he lay back, shucking off his pyjama pants, and then rolling over to go back to sleep.

**20 minutes earlier.**

Draco was standing in the Hospital Wing, wand in one hand, cock in the other; he had not been able to sleep well ever since the night he spent in the Great Hall, without jerking off to Potter once or twice first.

When he had seen Harry fall off his broom, Draco had leaped out of his seat, and run down ahead of everyone else to see if Harry was alright...he had never been so worried before in his life for anyone or anything (not even when Buckbeak had slashed him). He was next to Harry until Dumbledore sweeped him up and brought Harry to the castle, and every hour or so, Draco had gone to the Hospital Wing to see if he was alright – he was _always_ surrounded by his stupid Gryffindor friends, so Draco had not been able to get in until now...now, when Harry was sleeping.

"_Caedeoculis_" Draco whispered, sealing Harry's eyes. With his heart pounding at a thousand beats per second, he walked over to Harry. He saw Harry stir slightly, but he was reassured by his spellmanship that everything was fine.

Standing beside the bed, Draco contemplated what the fuck he was actually doing here.

**INSIDE DRACO'S HEAD:**

**Draco**: He looks so beautiful

**Reason:** But he is defenceless

**Draco: **All the better?

**Reason:** You do NOT take advantage of the weaker, Draco

**Draco:** Uh, read the badge, it says SLYTHERIN

**Reason:** do you _really_ think that this is the way to resolve your inner feelings? By embracing the physical?

**Draco: **Yes!

**Reason:** Don't lie...I know when you do.

**Draco:** Fuck off!

**Reason: **If you like him, and I know you do, you should ask him out; it'll feel better for both of you.

Harry breathed in deeply, and Draco snapped back to attention. Shouting "Fuck you" to his Reason, he leaned in and kissed Harry...

It was everything that he had wanted, and more; by kissing those soft lips, he could feel the other boy breathing, feel his life force, feel _him_. And, oh boy, they were _both_ horny now...

After getting Harry off, Draco had run out of the room – he just about down the stairs when he realized that the spell was still going...he mumbled "_finito!"_ and then continued to the dorms, not daring to look back. For the first time, he got off four times in the span of an hour and a half, continuously imagining Harry beside him in his bed, before finally collapsing into a deep sleep.

_It was a relief to return on Monday to the noise and bustle of the main school, where he was forced to think about other things, _such as his dream the night before_, even if he had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting_. Harry had noticed that Malfoy was paying more attention to him every day, but he didn't really care too much, though _Malfoy was beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat._

**Some action between the boys! Finally, right?**


	29. Chapter 29: Colin, as a Friend

**Okay...the moment we've all been sort of waiting for: this is the last chapter in the Prisoner of Azkaban; this is smut for fun, so if you don't like Harry/Colin, you don't need to read it (no real story is present here). **

**We are in Chapter 14, a few pages in; starting and ending italics denote the book.**

_Harry managed to shake Neville off at the Fat Lady by telling him the password then pretending he'd left his vampire essay in the library and doubling back. Once out of sight of the security trolls, he pulled out the map again and held it close to his nose._

_The third-floor corridor seemed to be deserted. Harry scanned the map carefully and saw, with a leap of relief, that the tiny dot labelled 'Severus Snape' was now back in its office._

As he walked, though, he suddenly heard a loud groan from the nearby boy's washroom; he peered at the map, and saw one dot, alone, labelled 'Colin Creevey'. Nobody was anywhere near this part of the castle, so Harry went into the washroom, in case he needed help.

He walked in, doing his best to keep his footsteps silent; Colin gave a muted moan of pain, and then Harry spoke up,

"You okay in there?" Harry asked, knocking on the stall from whence the noises came.

"Uh, yeah," Colin's voice came, quickly and nervously, "go away!"

"Colin, it's me, Harry," Harry knocked on the stall again, "are you sure you're alright?"

There was a pause, and then Colin's voice dropped in volume and he whispered, "not really. But it's embarrassing."

"I promise I won't tell a soul," Harry said.

"Okay," Colin said. Harry heard a rush of clothing as Colin sat up from the stall, and then opened the door.

Harry was very surprised to see Colin standing there, with a tear in his eye and a frown on his face. But, he was _more_ surprised to look down and see a tent in Colin's pants – not too small of one, either.

"What's up?" Harry asked, his cock immediately surging to its full potential.

"Uh, it's my, er, _penis_...sometimes it goes hard like this, but it usually goes away; it's been like this for over an hour, and it hurts!" Colin said, looking at Harry with pleading eyes.

"You don't know what to do when it gets like that?" Harry asked incredulously.

"What on earth do you mean?" Colin asked, eyes widening.

"So, you've never wanked before?"

"I'm not a wanker! Wankers are total jerks!"

Harry shook his head, "people just say that as an expression. Wanking is ... fun, and everyone does it."

"I don't," Colin said abruptly.

After a moment's pause, Harry asked "did you see a cute..." he was about to say boy, but immediately caught himself, "...girl?"

"Y-yeah, how'd you guess?"

"Cause...when your dick goes like that, it means that it wants sex...uh, that _you_ want sex."

Colin looked mortified, "Sex?" he whispered.

"It's good...but since you can't fuck anyone anytime you want, God came up with an awesome relief: wanking, and it's so easy too."

Without giving it a second thought, Harry pulled down his pants, freeing his member; he gave it a pull, looked the boy up and down, and then winked, "come on!"

Hesitantly, Colin unbuckled his trousers, and then pulled them off. Harry stared blatantly at Colin – a good deal shorter and with no pubic hair was he, but his cock was so hard that a bit of precum had already formed.

"What am I supposed to do?" Colin's voice quivered.

"Stroke your cock, not too firm a grip, and just...have fun!" Harry said, using Colin for material. It wouldn't take long – which was good, as he still had to get to Hogsmeade.

_Dare I?_ Harry thought, looking at Colin's very clumsy grip and awkward movements, _Yep...here goes nothing._

"Colin, stick your hands up in the air," Harry said in a forceful voice, removing his own hands and sticking them up. The other boy did so, and Harry thrust his hand out and grabbed Colin's cock. He gripped from the bottom, starting quickly, and it took only thirty seconds before Colin came.

Having not cum in over a week, Colin was full of seed; it certainly made its mark on Harry's cloak, and he shot three ribbons of cum in immediate succession. This had the unexpected effect of arousing Harry even further, so that when he moved a hand back to stroke once, he came. To get back at Colin, Harry aimed his cock at Colin's dick, and came all over it.

Harry chuckled after he was finally spent, and then performed a quick cleaning spell on himself.

"Got to go Colin...but try it yourself at night," Harry winked as he fled the bathroom.

Harry _sprinted back to the one-eyed witch, opened her hump, heaved himself inside and slid down to meet his bag at the bottom of the stone chute._

Colin smiled, alone in the washroom; after having dreamed of the night and jerked off to the idea for months on end, Harry fucking Potter had wanked him. Him!

**The Goblet of Fire will start soon! **

**Please let me know what you thought!**


	30. Chapter 30: The Quidditch Cup

**We proceed from the middle of Chapter 9, in the Goblet of Fire. Italics denote passages from the book.**

_Malfoy chuckled softly. "Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to – trying to rescue the Muggles?"_

"_Where're your parents?" said Harry, his temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"_

_Malfoy turned to Harry, still smiling. "Well...if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"_

"_Oh, come on," said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, "let's go and find the others."_

"_Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," sneered Malfoy_

"_Come on!" Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry and Ron off up the path again._

"_I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" said Ron hotly._

"_Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" said Hermione fervently._

"Potter!" Draco called back to Harry. Angling for a fight, Harry spun around and marched back to Draco. He shot a look at Ron, mouthing 'don't follow me!'

"_Oh, I can't believe this,_" Hermione grumbled, "oh well, we may as well figure out _where the others _have_ got to_!"

"What is it Malfoy?" Harry asked, now that the two were alone – minus the shrieks from nearby. The wind was remarkably calm for the dismay at the campsite, and the moon was beginning to light up the area around them.

"Easy, Harry," Draco grinned, though his smile carried less malice and more ... subtlety, "I just wanted to get rid of your friends 'cause I have something to discuss,"

"What the fuck could we discuss?" Harry shot him a glare; it didn't factor in, at this point, that Harry had spent a summer jerking off to both ideas of cute girls and Draco Malfoy, because he was currently surging with testosterone.

"Take a guess,"

"You're a jerk, and you finally feel like admitting it?"

"Ha, ha, ha," Malfoy rolled his eyes, exaggerating each syllable, "try again,"

"I actually have no fucking clue," Harry said, leaning back against a tree and folding his arms.

Draco paused, seemingly hesitant, and then spoke quietly, "remember when I was in the hospital wing, after that animal attacked me?"

"It didn't attack you, you provoked it; it was defending its honour," Harry blurted out,

"Shut up, Potter," Malfoy took a deep breath, "and then you were a complete idiot and fell down some stairs?"

"Fell _off_ stairs, Malfoy," Harry said through grit teeth,

"Whatever...point is, I know you got off to me there,"

Harry's jaw dropped, and his face flushed. His cock surged, but thanks to the dark Draco could see none of these signs.

"I did no such thing!" Harry exclaimed furiously,

"Do you deny jerking off? Because I heard you wipe the cum off your –"

"SHUT UP!" Harry said, his mind racing, "okay, I got off, but only because...well, I was...uh, you know...that's what 13 year old boys do! I still get off at least once a day, and I hadn't done it at all during the day then, so I was hard..."

Draco chuckled at how flustered Harry was getting.

"But _you_ masturbate!" Harry said triumphantly – though he was not prepared to tell Draco that he had once snuck into the Slytherin common room and watched Draco do so.

"Sure," Draco shrugged, "but you moaned _my_ name when you did it," Draco continued.

So much had changed since then...and Harry could not definitively recall that he had done so, but he could _not _remember if he hadn't. He had definitely gotten off with the image of a bare-chested Malfoy, but ...

"Must have ... been ... some mistake ... in ... what you... uh, heard...no! I said LaFoy...you know, the, uh, model?" Harry grasped at straws...he had seen the name in the Playwizard he had picked up in the summer.

Draco was silent for a minute as Harry's heart beat raced, before finally speaking up and stepping closer to Harry, "it's okay to like boys,"

Draco's tone had softened; Harry felt both intrigued and slightly scared. Was this some sick, twisted tactic that would later haunt him? Wouldn't the school and the world ... _hate_ him if he was...liked...boys?

"I don't!" Harry shouted, "I like girls! I got hard from the Veelas,"

"Anyone can...who's got a cock," Draco commented.

"But...I like girls! I get off to them all the time!"

"You know, if you weren't so scared about liking boys, you wouldn't be so scared to talk,"

_FUCK! _Harry thought to himself, _what do I do? Draco's got me trapped!_

"I like girls...but I like boys too," Draco admitted, staring into Harry's eyes, amidst rolling shivers up and down his spine. He had only ever felt so nervous before his father when failing a grade, or when his father punished him for showing mercy to a friend's debts.

_Ho oh, this is fucked up_, Harry thought to himself, utterly bewildered, _Christ on a bike...wow!_

"Okay...sometimes...I get hard to guys too," Harry managed to get out despite his immense trepidation.

All the world had melted away for the two boys – now, it was just them, protected by tall trees and a cool night. The sounds of chaos disappeared, and were replaced by one another's words echoing in their minds.

"Ever tried anything?" Draco asked, casually stepping closer and closer to Harry...after a moment's peace, he reached out a hand and massaged Harry's trapped erection.

Harry let out a tremendous sigh, but grew tired of just taking Malfoy's onslaught the whole night – he thrust out his hand, cupped Draco's erection, and then leaned in for a kiss.

Their lips made contact...and then Harry realized something...

_Those are the same lips from my dream in the Hospital Wing!_ He was just about to say something when a man in a mask suddenly appeared before them. The boys broke apart quite suddenly, each raising their wands.

"Fucking poofs!" the man yelled out,

"_Expelliarmus!_" Harry roared, blasting the man back against a tree. Beside him, Draco added in a _petrificus totalis_.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled as she suddenly reached the boys, "We were following this guy...but it seems you got him!"

"Yeah," Harry looked sheepishly at her, then Draco, and then back at her,

"Alright, let's go...I lost Ron!"

"See you around, Potter," Malfoy shrugged, turning his back and walking away...their erections wilted as they strode apart, and disappeared.

Harry eventually found Ron with a cut lip and a passed out partier – apparently, a comment about his hair had taken place, and he had punched the guy out.

_Fred, George and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all of them nervously looking over their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite._


	31. Chapter 31: Draco's Perspective

**We are trying something different now...in order to better explain how the boys got so brave for their confrontation, we must understand what happened to them over the summer. First, we here Draco's experience, from his own lips...**

The day that Father brought home the Cup Tickets, I had been in a rather depressed mood; my summer had been thus far been depressing, as everyday he would recall stories of Voldemort to mark the Dark Lord's sure return. When that idiot, Peter Pettigrew, came by for shelter, I was shunned out of the house, and I quickly learned how willing Our Side was to give up loved ones for Voldemort's plans.

Instead of leave, though, I walked out to the grounds, and then snuck up the vines to the second floor bathroom. Having not had a good wank in a week, I stripped quickly and decided a hot bath was in order. A quick _silencio_ left me my privacy, and within minutes the tub was filled. Jumping in was an absolute relief, and it took no time at all to get hard.

It was then that I remembered my experience last year, with Alcibiades...and that I hadn't been able to find him since then. The lever from before was suddenly, once again, available, and I pulled it. Once again, a passage opened, I swam through, and found myself again in the marble room.

Something had changed, however; where once there were statues lining the room were statues of remarkably lewd women. I've seen Greek nudes, but these girls were...it was basically pornography! Much to my dismay, I softened.

"Draco!" A voice called out, whose I recognized instantly; it was him!

"Alcibiades," I replied, looking around for that beautiful boy.

"Turn around,"

I spun around, and there he was, lying casually on a white couch, bare as the day he was born. Somehow he had known to transform from statue to human before I had shown up, and I was all the more thankful – both of us were rock hard, our cocks weeping with precum.

"Long time no see," he commented as I rose out of the water, walking up to join him. He sat up on the couch, and I took a seat beside him.

"That's because I haven't been able to find the fucking lever!" I chuckled. Bad as I wanted to reach out and grab his exposed erection, I held back my hormones and hands.

"It changes its location in the house, Draco...didn't you know that?"

"Obviously _not_,"

After a moment's pause, he continued, "so what brings you here now?"

"Voldemort's rising again, and my dad wants to get me in on it...but I don't want to," I looked around the room, shivering slightly.

"Is that _all_?" he asked, staring me in the eyes.

God, he had gorgeous eyes...I was lost in them for a moment, before breaking my gaze.

"No," I said sheepishly.

"Who is it?" he giggled; his curly hair bounced slightly, and I lost my train of thought. He then grabbed my cock, and I was immediately back in the conversation.

"I am finding myself...creaming my bed over Harry Potter," I admitted.

"What are you doing in your dreams?"

"Just...uh..." it was embarrassing to be so easy to get off, but no one would ever talk to Alcibiades about me, so "we were kissing,"

"And it's happened..."

"17 times"

"Hmm..." He paused. Standing up, he waved his cock in front of my face, pulled back on his foreskin once, and then dove into the pool. After he surfaced, he beckoned me to follow, which I did without delay. Once I was up for air, he grabbed me, pressed our bodies together, joining our erections, and kissed me full on the lips.

"Fuck, yeah..." I moaned into his mouth, moving my hands up and running them through his hair.

"Okay," he suddenly pushed me away and swam to the other side of the pool.

"What the fuck?" I asked in disbelief, treading water across from him, hard as steel.

"Are you happy?"

_Fucking duh!_ "More than happy...until you shoved me away!"

"That's not what I meant. You were feeling pleasurable...but were you, or _are_ you happy?"

"What's happiness, then?"

"Oh, geez," he shook his head slightly, "Okay...why do you do stuff?"

"Like..."

"Play Quidditch, or jerk off, or read a book?"

I paused for a second, before responding with the obvious, "to win the game, to cum, and to finish the book,"

"So, it's all for an end, right?"

"Yeah,"

I was horny, hard, and wanting to get off. However, somehow he sensed this and I could no longer move. I was frozen in a buoyant position, left only to converse.

"So, what's the end of dreaming about kissing Harry?"

"Uh..."

_Good question,_ I thought to myself, "to touch him?"

"Which would lead to..."

"blowing him, having him blow me?"

"Which would lead to..."

"Fucking, and then cumming."

"And that would lead to..."

"Me being happy...uh, pleasured,"

"Good!" He smiled, and suddenly his spell was lifted. He bolted forward in the water, kissed me again, and then sunk beneath the water. His lips closed around my cock and for the second time in my life, I got a blow job.

Well, the first didn't _really_ count, because it was for two seconds...

His experienced tongue did its job, and within a minute I came into his mouth...it was more than usual, but he was more than happy to suck me dry. Pulling himself up by my shoulders, he kissed me again, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue...it wasn't half bad.

"Okay...usually when you cum, the room makes you leave. But you won't be leaving til we get somewhere," he said. I suddenly noticed the water around him bubbling, and as I peered down, I could see him furiously pumping away...he shot his seed into the water, and for a moment I watched it as it shot towards me, before disintegrating.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, lying sated in the water.

"Do animals feel pleasure?"

"Yeah,"

"Then should that be the end of our actions, if we share it with the animals?"

"I suppose not,"

"What can we do that animals can't?"

"Do magic!"

"Animals have magical potential," he corrected me.

"Okay...we can think,"

"Right," he nodded, "so then wouldn't being with Harry as a _thinking _couple...you know, like a relationship, be better for you?"

"But...I feel so horny around him!"

"So, enjoy it, but realize that it is not what's really going to make you happy,"

Suddenly, the words of my Father's "the talk" came back into my head: _if ever you see a boy liking another boy, treat them as you would any mudblood. They are no better than muggles, as they can't conceive a new wizard, pureblood or not._

"But, he's a guy. Isn't it wrong to like him?"

He seemed taken aback by this, but recovered the next moment, "If you fail a test, and you feel angry, does anyone hold it against you?"

"Not if I keep my anger quiet,"

"And does anyone criticize you for the ability to feel angry?"

"Of course not...that would be stupid!"

"But if you punch through a desk, will people look down on you,"

"Yeah,"

"However, if you used that anger to study harder and ace the next test, would people still look down on you?"

"No...they'd probably say my anger was good,"

"Ah!" Alcibiades swam to the stairs and pulled himself out of the water...again, my mind went blank as I watched the drops of water rolling down his smooth back, over his arse, down his legs...I watched the tip of his cock swing between his legs as he ...

"Therefore, if you feel attracted to Harry, don't feel bad – it's a good thing! If you come to an awesome relationship, then no one can truly criticize you unless they are ignorant, but if you become a gay hooker, you will be disregarded."

_Wow, _I smiled, slowly swimming towards the steps, _he's quite right_.

"So go after Harry...who knows, he might be at the Cup!"

"You're right," I said, bolting up to him. I tackled him down on the couch, and pressed our erections against one together. Using my spit for lube, I reached down and grabbed them together. My pace was slow at first, but I sped up in time and soon we were cumming again, spraying all over one another. Cum shot as far as our necks, and I blacked out after I was finally finished spraying.

When I woke up, I was back in the bathroom, in a towel. I changed, and then went off to my room. I spent the weeks leading up to the Cup practicing how I was going to grab Potter...uh, _Harry_'s...attention.

**Next time: Harry's point of view**


	32. Chapter 32: Harry's Perspective

**Why Harry was so...bold...is explained here; we go back to the end of Chapter 6 (GoF). Starting italics denote the book.**

"_Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred._

"_That was a sample of fertiliser from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"_

"_It was," Fred whispered to Harry, as they got up from the table. "We sent it."_

Harry laughed aloud, but in fear quieted down; however, Percy was already far gone, and he let out another laugh.

"C'mon mate, we should probably get ready for bed," Ron said, motioning towards the upstairs.

"We'll join you in about an hour...we've got some shit to test," Fred said, winking at Harry...

_He can't possibly think we're going to ... well, we did talk ... _Harry thought to himself as he grew hard.

The two raced up the stairs, Ron's added height from the summer giving him the edge to win; he leaped onto his bed, face first, and snuggled in.

"Need a wank?" Harry asked, slowly undressing.

"Nah," Ron said, still face down in a pillow. "I was with my girlfriend earlier,"

**STARTING HARRY`S POV**

"What?" I asked, feeling my erection wilting, "you have a _girl_friend?"

"Yep," Ron smiled gingerly, "two weeks!"

Call me flabbergasted...I was in shock! Surely, Ron would have told me by owl that he had ... gotten lucky; I know I would, if Ron approved of her...or him. I was now clad only in my boxers, soft as the day I was born.

"You two...fucked?"

"Good god, no," Ron said, taken aback. His cheeks flushed red as he flipped over on his bed, staring at me. He slowly pulled off his jeans, then his shirt, and...was that hair beneath his belly button? I only had a bit of hair down _there, _but it looked like Ron had suddenly grown a lot more..._eww._ "But she is hot, and I think I wacked off four times after we made out."

"You _made out_?" I asked, still kind of in disbelief. I threw myself onto my bed, wrapped the covers around me, and prayed for a quick death...I felt so fucking awkward. My summer was one of chores and being shut in the house; I hadn't done anything I suppose 'normal' teenagers were doing.

"Yeah...first time," he laughed, "and it was good,"

Hmm...they only kissed, and yet he got stiff for four jerk offs? That is impressive. I wonder if Draco's a good kisser –

NO! I must not think about kissing Draco, er, Malfoy.

Must not want to kiss Malfoy. I must

_make out with him_

remain strong, resolute, hard

_like never before_

willed, and be steadfast. I need a girl

_as a cover_

so that I can also get some action. She needs to be

_a guy...one guy: Draco Malfoy_

hot, so that I can compete with Ron, willing to make out, a challenge

_to fuck_

for me to come

_all over the place_

to understand.

SHUT UP, inner voice!

"I don't think I could get hard for anything right now," Ron added after a moment's silence, "but if you need to do it, I can get the lights,"

"Nah, should be fine," I lied; images of Draco suddenly swarmed my head, and my dick went from flaccid to firm in 4 seconds.

"Suit yourself. Night!"

"I should have a shower though," I suddenly piped up, "I haven't had one in a couple days,"

"Yeah, you do kinda stink," Ron nodded. I grabbed a towel from the nearby dresser and meandered over to the shower, doing my best to keep my erection out of Ron's line of sight. Once in the bathroom, I pulled off my oppressive pyjamas and grabbed hold of my throbbing cock.

Unfortunately, the water took _forever_ to get hot, so I stood before the large mirror in the room and examined myself.

Yep, there was a small patch of hair growing above my cock, though my balls were still clean. It was good too – I had the misfortune of being shipped someone's gay porn magazine, and all the hairy men had made me want to puke. How did women ever get passed the hair?

Quidditch had certainly done its job over the past few years; where once I was a scrawny boy of no great athletic capability, I was now somewhat physically fit. Biceps from constantly gripping a broom had made an impressive appearance, and had firmed my pecs and triceps. My quads had definitely gotten their workout, wrapped around the broomstick, and I could see the faintest whisper of a barely existing six pack begin to form. Feeling slightly kinky, I traced from my left shoulder down to the brown nub of a nipple, playing with it momentarily before sliding it down to my belly button, feeling over my smooth stomach, before reaching down and yanking my cock again.

Having grown half an inch, I was feeling rather good about my prospects for finding someone...if the physical mattered at all...hell, if a guy (good looking, mind you) were to run up in the showers and say "let's do it," I think I'd say yes. Would I, when I was younger? Probably not. Weird how that works.

Finally, the water was warm, and I stepped in the shower. Days of grime washed off me, and my erection throbbed harder. Putting on the shampoo, I closed my eyes...and suddenly, in my imagination, there stood Malfoy...

_Draco_

He was hard as I, a bit shorter, and not marred by any hair save for that atop his head. His head was cocked to one side, and his hands were behind his back, as if he was presenting himself to me. I was more than ready to take him.

Finishing up with the shampoo, I opened my eyes and reached around for the soap, lathering up my body. Using it to lube up my cock, I began fisting myself furiously, not caring that I was making soft moans of pure pleasure. Closing my eyes again, Draco was now right in front of me, just barely letting the tips of our cocks touch one another.

I was unable to control myself, and so I reached out, wrapped my hands around his back, and pulled him in for a kiss. Perhaps I was so horny that even kissing would get me off, or I was jealous of Ron – either way, imagining our lips touching felt so goddamned good that I came instantly. I opened my eyes just in time to see me shoot a stream of cum straight onto the back wall of the shower. It mixed with the condensation as I sat down on the warmed tiles, and flowed down around my feet.

I sat in the shower for several minutes, panting in the afterglow of orgasm, wishing that I had Draco there beside me...to hold me...to kiss me...to...

love me?

**What happens when they go back to school? Wink!**


	33. Chapter 33: Questions on the Train

**We continue our story at the very end of Chapter 11, just after Malfoy exits Harry's compartment on the train. As always, italics (opening and closing) denote passages from the book.**

_Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared._

_Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered._

"_Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!", and the glass shards flew back into a single pane, and back into the door._

"What the fuck is up with Malfoy?" Harry grumbled, as he swung open the door once more. He turned around, faced his friends, and said quietly, "give me a moment,"

"Harry, don't do anything!" Hermione said, while Ron punched his right fist into his left hand for encouragement.

"Won't," Harry smiled slightly.

He closed the door and sped down the hallway, in the direction that Malfoy had gone. Twenty seconds later, he was down near the men's washroom when the hulking Crabbe and Goyle grabbed him and threw him inside. They resumed a stationary post outside the doors, barking at anyone who tried to get in.

Harry landed on his stomach, cringing slightly in pain as he stood up. There was Malfoy, standing with a somewhat worried look on his face.

"You alright, Harry?"

"Not in the fucking slightest," Harry said, shooting an angry look at Malfoy.

"I'm sorry...I told them to ask you inside,"

"Oh, they asked," Harry brushed himself off, "but, being too stupid to use words, they chucked me in here,"

"Hey," Malfoy said, raising his voice slightly, "don't talk about my friends that way,"

"Didn't you once tell me that they weren't your friends?"

"Maybe..." Malfoy shrugged.

Silence filled the room, save for the quiet steam blowing past the top of the train in the wind.

"So..." Malfoy began, fixating on the word.

"So..." said Harry.

More awkward silence. _Very_ awkward. They both stared at each other, then down at the floor, and then around the stalls, then at each other, and repeat.

For three minutes, they were silent.

"Hey, what the fuck? Let me in!" came a voice from outside, followed by the sounds of fists connecting with someone's face.

"So, better make this quick," Draco finally summoned up the courage to speak, "what the fuck did we do?"

"Uh, good question," Harry said, oozing sarcasm, "you grabbed my cock. In the field. At the cup."

"YOU kissed me!" Draco shot back, "and grabbed _my_ cock!"

"So we both wanted it," Harry concluded.

"I was, in my defence, tipsy," Draco continued, "I had about three or four beers after the cup,"

"I was sober," Harry muttered.

"So, what do we do?"

"What do you mean?"

"What does this mean?" Draco looked Harry in the eyes.

"That we get off to one another," Harry shrugged.

"Yeah...but what now?"

"Well," Harry said, shivering with nervousness, "in the muggle world"

"Ugh,"

"Shut the fuck up,"

"Fine,"

"In the muggle world, if two people are attracted to one another, they...um...date,"

"But we are boys!" Malfoy immediately objected.

"Didn't you say that that didn't matter?" Harry took several steps forwards, coming close to Draco.

"Listen, _Potter_, my father will disown me if I dated a boy...he'd _kill_ me if I dated you!"

"So get disowned!"

"Fuck you, you don't understand, you don't have parents to disappoint," Draco shot back.

"It was a joke...and to be honest, _Malfoy_, I would rather have parents to disappoint than not have any at all,"

"Oh," Draco looked down at Harry's shoes, "sorry,"

"But we could keep it secret...sneak somewhere in the castle, share a butterbeer..."

"What the fuck?" Draco pushed Harry away slightly, "what's the point?"

"That's what we could figure out," Harry said, reaching out a hand to put on Draco's shoulder. He leaned forwards, hoping for a kiss, when suddenly the door burst open and the boys jumped apart.

"Get the FUCK out!" said a very tall, bulky Hufflepuff.

"See you around, _Potter_," Malfoy said, smirking. However, this smirk wasn't malicious – it was ... one that hinted something.

"I'd be happy to never see you again, _Malfoy_," Harry said, winking at him. The two parted ways, and Harry returned to the compartment with Hermione and Ron.

"Malfoy's such a git," Harry said, resuming his facade, "But you didn't have to break the door Ron,"

"_Well...making it look like he knows everything and we don't..." Ron snarled. " 'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry'...Dad could've gotten a promotion at any time...he just likes where he is..."_

**Next Time: A Peculiar First Date!**


	34. Chapter 34: Setting Up a Date

**We go with the Goblet of Fire. Welcome to Chapter 13, near the beginning...**

**Italics denote the beginning and end of the passage.**

_Harry and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron and Hermione knew only too well – he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures – the more lethal, the better._

Malfoy had since moved away from the trio, off by himself around Hagrid's hut. After commending Hermione once more on her retort, Harry managed to leave the two and join Draco alone.

"What's the deal with Granger?" Draco said as soon as the two were certainly alone.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, smirking cooly, paying more focus on Draco's body rather than his words.

"My fuckin' eyes are up here," Draco said, snapping his fingers in front of Harry's eyes, "I mean she's intentionally showing me up,"

"That's because you are trying to put Hagrid down, and he's our friend," said Harry, staring into Draco's eyes.

"Well fuck me, you're friends with an ogre,"

"I wouldn't mind it..." Harry's mind screamed

"Just...stop fucking showing off and act normal for once," Harry said, blushing slightly, "and then you won't have any problems with my friends...or me."

"But, Potter, it's a good cover, and one I need to keep...I already told you why,"

"Well, screw it!" Harry said, moving closer, trying to grab at Draco's hands, "do we really need to worry about anyone else between us?"

"YES!" Draco yelled...suddenly, the noise around them quieted, and both boys fell silent; however, an explosion from the other side of the hut caused the class to resume chatter. "Listen, Harry, do you really think they'll still love you if they know about us?"

"What do you mean?" Harry pulled back.

"The mob is a temperamental thing...they love you for what you did as a baby, and they still think of you as that baby, years ago. Now, if the Boy Who Lived goes off and starts dating boys and breaking with the sacred institutions – like marriage or House loyalty – they are going to toss you off and treat you as a wacko...just like Dumbledore now. You can't keep them if you want me."

Harry paused for a second, before suddenly leaning forwards and taking Draco into a deep kiss...lips touched, breaths were exchanged, and hands roamed up one another's adolescent body. Harry closed his eyes, and Draco widened his...was this real? A moment later, Harry broke away, a smile upon his face.

"What was _that_ for?" Draco asked, his voice sounding bewildered.

"I think that's the first selfless thing I've ever heard you say...even if it is misguided,"

"What the fuck?"

"You weren't concerned for yourself at all...just me," Harry continued, "but you misjudged something: I don't need the fame to be happy,"

"Listen," Draco said, taking a deep breath, "don't get the wrong idea...if what the rumours say is true, and if Voldemort comes back, he will kill my family if I get involved with you. Hell, if he manages to never return, my father will kill me...actually,"

"Okay..."

"Listen...I will play the part I need to, so that we can try...well, whatever this thing is...and you need to remember that it's not me talking...we just have to wait until we are strong enough to fight back," Draco said, turning around and beginning to leave.

"I'm strong enough!" Harry said in desperation.

"Trust me...the press is the most powerful drug around; when they leave you, you'll be singing a different tune,"

"But –"

Draco continued walking, but said aloud, "Astronomy tower, next week, 10 in the evening,"

Harry swallowed deeply, and walked the other way to his friends.

**Okay, so NOT a first date...but that will be next, promise!**


	35. Chapter 35: The First Date

**A/N: At the end of Chapter 12, change "...Cho's face stood out" to "...Draco's face stood out".**

**Same deal with the italics as always, and we are in Chapter 15!**

_The appearance of the sign in the Entrance Hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumours were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beaxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves._

_Harry noticed, too, that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning;_ however, Harry's complete attention was fixed on his date with Draco Malfoy. He couldn't think about much else, and during the entire day of the date, he was in another land during his classes.

It was now eight o'clock, and Harry was sitting in an alcove near the top of the Astronomy Tower, his heart pounding in nervousness, his limbs shaking, and his mind...expectant and hopeful. The air blowing in the open windows was rather cold, but he didn't mind – not if it meant a good night to come.

He had spent the week largely thinking about what they would say to one another, what they would actually do...Harry didn't know how dates worked, and he certainly had never been on one. Sure, they had kissed, so that gave them _some_ comfortable familiarity, but it also removed a 'base' in dating rituals...tonight, by that logic, they would surely make out, which would mean that they could only evolve to something else...

Something higher...

More daring...

To sex!

It was nine thirty, and Harry was getting worried. It had been an hour and a half, and there was still no Draco. He had surely gotten the day, time, and place correct – as far as his memory could go, for he was too hopeful not to; but Draco was nowhere to be seen. The hard-on that had risen around eight thirty was now dying, and Harry was ready to head on home. He threw on his invisibility cloak, as it was now dark, and began the slow trudge to his common room.

What was it, that had stopped Draco from coming? Did Harry say something over the week? Was Draco going through some turmoil at home? Did he hate Harry now? Did he...god forbid...find someone else?

All these thoughts blurred through Harry's mind, and so he was not looking as he walked down the steep spiral steps, and smashed right into another body, pressing that person tight against the wall. Both were holding one another for dear life, and when Harry's mind finally woke from its stupor, he realized that he was staring straight into Draco's eyes...

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Draco yelled out, shoving Harry away with as much might as possible; Harry, however, knowing that they needed to keep calm in order not to fall, only pressed himself against his date harder, his cock beginning to grow from arousal, "Peeves, this isn't fucking funny!"

_Peeves?_ Harry thought, before realizing that he was invisible. Carefully, he pushed back against the wall, shrugged off the cloak, and then caught a hold of Draco's shirt as he began to tumble.

"Harry?" Draco asked, shocked, managing to finally find a grip on the wall. Harry, feeling cocky, leaned forwards to try and kiss Draco...but Draco managed to squirm out of his grasp and stepped up the rest of the stairs to the top.

"You're late," Harry said, kind of giggling at his audacity.

"_You_'re early," Draco snorted, "I said ten precisely, Potter."

"Fuck, you're right," said Harry as he vaulted up the steps to join Draco, who had since walked over to an open window, staring out to the stars.

"Lot of stars out tonight," said Draco, not particularly talking to Harry, " 'every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile' "

"That's ... beautiful," replied Harry quietly; his libido had forcefully taken over Harry ever since they ran into each other, and only now was his rational mind allowed to regain its position, "Did you come up with that?"

"No," Draco sighed, turning his head back to look at Harry, "one of the greatest American wizards, Emerson, said that; I'm not that smart."

"You're plenty smart," Harry said, leaning against a stone wall, "more than me, for sure,"

"Not by choice...my father's outfitted me with the 'finest' education on the past pureblood wizards all my life, teaching me about Plato and Aristotle, about Latin and Greek, about ... "

Harry looked at his feet, "I never got to learn anything from the Dursleys; they made me do chores all the time, and never gave a bloody fuck about my dreams,"

Silence overtook them for a moment, before Draco laughed softly, "pretty depressing way to start out a date,"

"Kind of..." Harry shrugged.

"So what do we do, you know, on a date?"

"I don't know – I've never been on one!"

"Me neither...this isn't good,"

"Or," Harry piped up, "it is...means we can trek out our own path; seems to be the way we do things naturally, anyways,"

"True," Draco smiled sincerely, "So...excited for the other schools, much?"

"Meh...to be honest, I am kind of curious, but I kind of like the coziness of Hogwarts by itself – I think I might be uneasy with other students around all year,"

"Pissed off that you can't get in?"

"Are you kidding? Finally, I don't have any obligations to do anything!"

"Since when have you had to do hard stuff?"

Harry spent the next fifteen minutes recanting his experience with Voldemort in First Year, with Riddle and the Basilisk in Second, and about Sirius being his godfather in Third – he left out the bit about saving him. All this was sworn to secrecy, and Harry relished the ability to talk to someone outside of Hermione or Ron; he loved them both, but sometimes they could be _too_ intervening.

Not one to be outdone, Draco spent a good twenty minutes making Harry dream and laugh along to his many adventures abroad with his parents; though his parents were always out looking for Voldemort, Draco was always able to sneak out and explore the cities around him. He recanted a story of seeing a Veela in Bulgaria, and having gotten so hard that he had to wait for an hour in a bathroom for his hard-on to go away. He added in a bit of trivia that he knew Harry would not know, and so the two passed by a genuinely good time.

"And, so, the bartender told me to fuck off or else he'd call the Muggle police...I conveniently whipped out a spell to make his hair grow really fast, before my father caught me!" Draco sighed in nostalgia.

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

"Dunno...s'round eleven, I'd guess, why?"

"Because I want to know how much longer I have to hold off from kissing you,"

"Aw...so you're the girl in this relationship, eh, Harry?" Draco snarled playfully.

"If that's what it takes to make out, fuckin' fine with me!" he said, suddenly pouncing across the floor onto Draco, pulling them both to the floor, "C'mere,"

Harry had managed to wrestle Draco to a position beneath him, and once their bodies were lined up, Draco craned his neck up and met Harry's lips; the two held the position for a moment, before both were hard, at which point they began to grind their trapped erections against one another.

"Harry..." Draco exhaled, his breath stagnant; he had _never_ felt so good before.

"Oh, yeah, Draco," Harry sighed, resuming the kiss. Once he had recaptured Draco's attention, he snaked a hand down to his trousers, and slowly pulled off his belt. Once that was complete, he did the same for Draco, and threw them to the side. More than a willing companion, Draco began to unbutton Harry's shirt, starting from the bottom, using only one hand, until his shirt was open and Harry's bare chest lay before him – so pristine, just toned enough for his entrance into manhood, but still perfectly smooth.

Bravado and arousal surging, Harry tore open Draco's shirt as their tongues danced together, before lowering himself onto Draco and pressing their bare skin against one another. It was beginning to become too much for both of them to stand, so Harry snuck his hand into his pants and was just about to pull out his throbbing member when Draco moaned in the ecstasy of the moment – and shot his knee straight upright.

Had it not been for Harry's hand, he would most certainly be talking in a high voice for the rest of the month; as it was, though, Draco had only managed to knee Harry's hand, covering his balls, and so in pain Harry rolled off Draco, feeling his erection diminish faster than ever before.

"Fucking bloody hell!" He said, the pain producing burning tears in his eyes; he wasn't sad, just pained.

"Harry, what happened?" Draco set, sitting bold upright, his shirt casually falling off him.

"You kknee...kneed m-me, ahhh!, in the crotch!"

"Fuck, man, I'm _soo_ sorry!"

"Ah, I don't think that I can do anything more...ow...tonight," Harry sighed, holding his package for dear life, gently massaging it.

Suddenly, Draco was flooded with his father's teaching, and as he couldn't get what he wanted, in spite he murmured, "pussy,"

"Fuck you," Harry said, suddenly angry, "ferret boy!"

Harry didn't even see Draco's fist move, before it connected with his stomach and knocked the wind out of him...

"Don't EVER call me that again, Potter!" Malfoy sneered, before putting on his shirt, doing up his belt, and walking away down the stairs.

Harry spent a good ten minutes on the floor, the physical and emotional pain rolling in waves through his body; eventually, he was able to sit up, redress, grab his things, and then don his invisibility cloak. He went to bed in pain, and awoke angry at Draco. They didn't speak or make eye contact whatsoever for the following week.

_When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight_.


	36. Chapter 36: An Unexpected Conversation

**In the middle of Chapter 16, still in the Goblet of Fire – starting and ending italics denote the book!**

"_There's a rumour going round, Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told Harry. "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."_

_Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook his head in disgust. "We can't have a Slytherin champion!"_

"_And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."_

Harry cocked his head curiously to the side – what had Seamus just said? Did he really say that Cedric Diggory was good looking? Though Harry had never given too much of a thought to boys save for Draco, now that he thought about it – yeah, he did look good. Handsome, yes, sculpted, fuck yes, attractive – potentially. A pit formed in his throat, though, because he had never felt this feeling of lust to anyone, except whenever he looked at Draco.

However, Draco was doing his absolute best to avoid Harry at the moment, and he seemed genuinely angry, when it was all his fault.

"Hmm..." thought Harry, before suddenly realizing: Seamus had said that Diggory was good looking.

Seamus.

A fellow Gryffindor.

Who so far had never shown any interest in a girl.

Even Neville had perked up for a Ravenclaw earlier in the semester...

"Seamus," Harry leaned over, whispering into his ear, "do you like boys?"

Seamus flushed red, and suddenly sat bolt upright; he removed himself from the table, motioned towards the doors to Harry, and then quickly walked away. Thinking nothing of it, their friends just shrugged; thinking a million things of it, Harry immediately followed. He passed through the doors, around a corner, past a cackling jack-o-lantern, and then was face to face to a very embarrassed looking Seamus.

"What of it, Potter?" Seamus said in a slightly higher than normal voice.

"What of what?"

"You know...you think I'm a queer or something?"

"Not really...but you're comment about, y'know, Cedric being good looking...didn't seem like something a guy would say about another guy," Harry shrugged sheepishly, fixated more on the ground than at his friend, "and it would be okay if you did like guys...I wouldn't care in the least."

Seamus paused, inhaled, and seemed just about ready to speak, when he turned around. He counted to three, spun back around, and then, in a soft voice, whispered, "I...uh, do, uh, like...y'know, uh, _boys_"

Sort of mockingly, sort of seriously, Harry maintained the tone of the conversation and smiled, "me too!"

"Oh...Potter's a pansy?" Seamus chuckled nervously.

"No...I like girls too...but guys aren't half bad to look at, either, eh?"

"Definitely...I think Justin's cute, too,"

"That guy who thought I sicked a snake on him?" Harry seemed taken aback.

"Yeah...but he's better than that now!"

"Oh, okay,"

"Wow...this is so cool," Seamus said, patting Harry on the shoulder, "I've never had anyone to talk about this, y'know, feeling, before...you ever done anything with a guy?"

"Uh, no," Harry lied

"You and Ron get off sometimes...remember? I joined you once!" Seamus was now getting just a little bit too enthused with all this.

"Yeah...but that's not _together_ together...just proximity wise,"

"Ah, true...well, I've wanked with other guys, I have wanked other guys, I've blown and been blown, and once I've done it,"

"It?" Harry's eyebrows shot up, as did his cock.

"Y'know...sex!"

"How did it feel?"

"Hurts like a bitch at the start, but once you get going..."

"With who?"

"A muggle boy back home...we only did it the one time though,"

"But you're fourteen!"

"So?"

Harry was really hard right now, possibilities with Draco flowing in and out of his imagination.

"If you ever need a, er, tip, or a hand," Seamus blushed again, "you've got me!"

"Cool," Harry said cautiously, rubbing his elbow.

"Potter, Finnegan, what are you doing here?" came Snape's drawling voice from down the corridor, "It's lunch time, and student's ought be eating, or else back in their dormitories,"

"Ah, yes, professor, we were just going to eat," Seamus said shakily, his head bowed slightly,

"Well, go!" Snape insisted, and Harry and Seamus bolted back to their seats. Everyone was still talking about the cup as they sat down.

"_Listen," said Hermione suddenly._

_People were cheering out in the Entrance Hall..._

**Please R/R!**


	37. Chapter 37: Tipsy, Not Drunk

**We are now in the middle of chapter 21, just after Harry has finished up his night of partying. Same deal for italics as usual!**

_It was nearly one in the morning when Harry finally went up to the dormitory with Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean. Before he pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut, Harry set his tiny model of the Hungarian Horntail on the table next to his bed, where it yawned, curled up and closed its eyes. Really, Harry thought, as he pulled the hangings on his four-poster closed, Hagrid had a point ... they were all right, really, Dragons ..._

Having had a bit to drink, Harry was more than ready for sleep, when suddenly a pain formed in his stomach – not a bad one, mind you, but an unwelcome one. It was the pain of hunger, and Harry knew that he shouldn't resist it.

Groggily, Harry pulled on a pair of jeans over his pyjama bottoms, threw on a button down shirt (without doing the buttons), and left the dormitory. Having heard from Fred and George where the kitchen was, he set his mind on a nice turkey sandwich and a glass of cranberry juice.

He was no sooner out the door and down a flight of steps when he was suddenly confronted by a figure dressed in black robes, of his height, with his hood pulled up. Instinctively, Harry reached for his wand...but it wasn't there! He must have left it upstairs in his bedroom! He took a step back, intending to run back, when suddenly a voice called out,

"Harry!"

That was Draco's voice! As Harry looked down, he saw the mysterious figure pull back his hood to reveal a head of nicely gelled and combed blonde hair – it was Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?"

"Please, I thought we were finally beyond surnames," Draco tisked, shaking his head back and forth.

"We were, until you kneed me in the crotch and called me names,"

This seemed to shut Draco up for a moment, before he suddenly shrugged, put up his hands, and smiled, "y'know...you might want to consider the knee a compliment,"

"What the fuck?"

"I've never felt so good in my life, Harry, and I couldn't contain myself,"

"Oh..." Harry now felt kind of bad,

"And I was childish to call you a pussy, but when you have something you enjoy so much destroyed, you tend to feel angry about it too, right?"

"Yeah...but still! You call me and my friends names all the time, you fucking hexed Hermione, and I haven't gotten as angry as you have!"

"Listen, Harry,"

"Did you ever stop to think that I can get tired of all these mind games, of all the torments?" Harry asked, feeling a tiny tear form in his eye, "That no matter how much I may feel for you, that it can't be all giving?"

Draco sighed deeply, "I'm sorry,"

"Good...and once we can stop this deception, it'll all be better, and then we can date and be together like a normal...well, whatever we are!"

"You make it sound like it's going to happen tomorrow – Harry, the Dark Lord is going to be a plague for years to come!"

"Well, if you can't do it, I can't either!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked, taking a few steps forwards to meet Harry on the steps. Draco's eyes pierced through Harry, like only Dumbledore or Moody had done before, "What?"

"Draco...I can't like you like this...not now...there's so much spinning around right now, and I can't cope. I feel like I'm suffocating,"

"I can help you – " Draco leaned in and met Harry for a kiss; though Harry initially squirmed, he soon enough gave in and embraced Draco. They held themselves together for a minute, enjoying the simple, exquisite ecstasy of holding one another. Both had begun to get hard, and yet Harry pulled back.

"Listen, Ron and I just got over a fight, and I've got to plan for the Second Task, and ... can we just take a break for a bit?"

"What?" Draco asked, bewildered, letting go of Harry.

Harry took this opportunity for himself and slowly stepped back up the stairs, all the while facing Draco.

"I promise there's nothing between me and Hermione, or anyone else, though," Harry said, waving goodbye. Once he was at the top of the steps, he muttered the password and went back to his bed, leaving Draco alone in the dark.

Once in his bed, Harry realized three things: One, he was no longer hungry; Two, he was now hard as fuck; Three, he was glad he could leave Draco on good terms, and not have to worry about something going wrong tonight. He was tipsy, not drunk, but they still could have done something neither were ready for.

Unfortunately, he was alone, as all his roommates had since gone to bed, so he seized upon the opportunity and stripped off his clothes. He grabbed his hard on, and pumped furiously to the image of he and Draco kissing...it had felt so pure, so beautiful, so right...and he didn't want to risk that. This sustained him to orgasm, and he shot a relatively substantial load all over his chest and stomach. He was now sweaty, seed covered, and breathing heavily, but he was not one thing: flaccid. For some strange reason – perhaps the alcohol, perhaps the encounter – he was still hard as before his release.

Teenage boys know that the only way to really deal with a hard on is to cum...but what happens when that fails? Well, then male genes kick in, and so the axiom "try, try again" comes into effect; thus, Harry gripped himself again, still shuddering from the shivers of his first orgasm.

This time, however, he needed something a little more...satisfying, so he went dirty in his thoughts. He had always wondered what it would be like to get a blow job, and suddenly he imagined Draco there, in his bed, naked, with his mouth just hovering over his straining erection. Oh yes, this would do, Harry thought, and so he closed his eyes and jerked away.

Unlike previous wanks, Harry had forgotten his silencio; he figured he didn't need it, as his roommates were asleep. However, his first session had woken up Seamus, and the advent of his second invited the similarly-tasted individual to investigate the noise, and to rid himself of the erection that had begun.

Harry was just imagining Draco flicking his tongue across the slit of his cock, coaxing out the shy precum, when suddenly Seamus ripped back the curtains and peered in.

"Seamus!" Harry whispered as loudly as he dared, "Close the curtains and get in here!"

More than willing to comply, Seamus, who was clad only in his pyjama bottoms – which were definitely now too small – jumped in and closed the curtains. He was treated now to the beautiful view of Harry naked, sprawled out on his bed, covered in his own ribbons of cum, jerking off; it was all he could do to stop himself from lubing up and fucking the boy right there. The alcohol, by the way, definitely did not dampen his mind's dark desires.

"Mate, you really need to learn a silencing spell...it'll help when you bring boys back here, when you don't want to be disturbed,"

"Or, you could just _not_ be nosy," Harry countered with a smile; much to his delight, being so utterly naked and vulnerable before Seamus had only made him harder, and pushed him closer to orgasm.

"Meh...then I wouldn't have any fun!" Seamus said, eyeing Harry's nipples as his chest heaved up and down.

"Are you going to join or stare all night?" Harry asked, with firewhiskey fuelled bravado coursing through him. He wasn't drunk...but if he had been sober, he might have thought against the idea...but, carpe diem!

"Fuck, mate, I'm ready," Seamus grinned as he yanked off his pyjamas and took his cock in hand.

"Yo...where's your hair?" Harry asked, eyeing Seamus' privates.

"Shaved...sometimes, when I'm wanking, I catch a bit of my pubes in my fist, and pull them out...talk about a buzzkill," Seamus said, shifting wanking duties from his left to his right hand, "plus, I think it feels better shaved,"

"Hmm..." Harry said, casually playing with his balls, "might try it,"

"Use a magical razor though...the muggle ones _hurt_!"

"K," said Harry, "how long are you?"

"Uh," Seamus said, rather taken aback – this was all so casual, calm, and relaxed...and he hadn't really expected the third degree from Harry about sex; however, his cock definitely didn't seem to mind, so he slowed his pace and answered, "I'm now five and three quarters,"

"Cool...I'm fucking shorter...but only for now!"

"It'll grow, man, you just got to give it time,"

"True," said Harry.

The two continued jerking off, both using each other for material without mentioning the fact. After a minute, Seamus piped up, feeling a little brave, "yo...if I, um, do something, will you do it for me?"

"What's that?" asked Harry, running ideas through his mind – Seamus had jerked him off once before...and Harry couldn't see a problem returning the favour.

"Can I, uh, er, uh...give you a ... well, uh, y'know," Seamus flushed red

"Spit it out, man!" said Harry in a comical voice,

"Suck you off?" Seamus finally got out.

"Uh," Harry said, stopping his wank...though his cock, libido, pubescent mind, and alcohol impaired brain said it would fun, some voice deep inside him told him that it would be a bad idea...something inside him wanted him to save it for Draco.

"Well?" asked Seamus, stopping his ministrations on his own cock,

"I was kind of hoping to save that for someone, you know, uh, special?" Harry said, trying to be casual, "Not that you're not special...you're an awesome friend...but, I mean, for someone I want to date?"

"But...we're just pals, and pals do that sometimes...plus, it'll train you so that you can give whoever you really love a terrific blow job!"

"I don't know...it would feel wrong for me, and I'm feeling good as is..."

"Fine," said Seamus, sulking a bit.

In jest, and also to make him feel better, Harry piped up with a new suggestion, "you can, er, dispose of the cum on my stomach for me, if you want?"

Harry was not prepared AT ALL for what came next – Seamus shot forwards, slid up Harry's body to his collarbone, and began sucking off the copious amount of cum that had stained Harry's slim torso. Leaving hickeys in his midst, Seamus moved down to his ribs, lapping up a puddle there, looking up at Harry in a suggestive way, before kissing his path down to Harry's belly button and, then, waist. Knowing his bounds, once he left Harry clean, Seamus lifted his head up and was about to return to the other side of the bed when he breathed lightly on the tip of Harry's cock, beckoning it to thrust up.

It took all of Harry's not considerable will power to keep his hips from shooting up, but he couldn't help a loud moan pour from his lips. Knowing that he had had the effect he wanted, Seamus contentedly leaned back and then lay back on the bed. Both were now side by side, though with their heads raised, jerking away. Thirty seconds later, Seamus was spraying his load onto his own stomach, cumming in one...two...three...four jets of hot white cum. Not giving a damn about the world, he let out a terrific moan of sheer pleasure, and then opened his eyes to see Harry shooting yet another copious load onto his stomach.

Two orgasms, for men anyways, takes a lot of energy, and yet Harry found a reserve pool in his body and crawled over to Seamus. He rubbed his own stomach into his sheets, vowing to clean the cum up tomorrow, and then found his way to Seamus' softening cock and his heaving stomach. In an incredibly kinky move, Harry placed his hand on Seamus' member, playing with the tip, as he gently tongued away the cum, savouring the salty taste on his tongue. He could feel the whisper of another erection from Seamus, and so stopped and pulled back. He lethargically righted himself in the bed, pulled the covers over him, and waved good night to Seamus who was erect again.

Sadly alone, Seamus grabbed his pyjamas with his left hand, took his cock in his right, and quickly stroked off again, cumming in a small pool at the foot of Harry's bed. With what little energy he had left, he managed to collapse onto his bed, pull a decent amount of covering over his body, and fall asleep.

The next morning, t_he start of December_,_ brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts._

**That was a bit of smut, eh? Was that good, or bad, or not enough, or too much? As we move to the H/D stuff, I need to know what everyone thinks so I can make this the best story that it can be!**

**Please R/R!**


	38. Chapter 38: Reconciliation

**So, anyways, we are at the very very end of chapter 23, and italics at the opening and close are from the book, as usual!**

"_Tell you what," Cedric said, "use the Prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's Pine-Fresh. Gotta go... want to say goodnight –"_

_He grinned at Harry again and hurried back down the stairs to Cho._

Though Harry felt a little angry that Cedric was off to make out with Cho, while Harry was left alone, he nevertheless swallowed his pride and walked over to a bench to sit down and ponder. What did he mean, take a bath? What good could that do him?

He was just about to leave when he heard a rustling in the bush behind him, and as he spun around he saw Draco Malfoy fall out of the bushes, his nice black suit covered in leaves and weeds.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry, chuckling a bit.

"Failing at sneaking up on you, what do you think?" Draco said, cool as a cucumber, brushing himself off.

"I can see that,"

"Listen, I have something to tell you, Harry," Draco said after a moment's hesitation.

"Oh, really?" Harry drawled, mimicking Draco's usual tone.

"That's not funny," said Draco, though he continued, "Listen: Rita Skeeter's been in contact with my father, and she's writing some piece about Hagrid,"

"Fuck off..." Harry muttered, "no, not you Draco, I mean her,"

"And my father told her about my, um, incident with the Hippogriff, and she confronted me in front of my friends...she made me talk about it,"

"Oh, fuck, Draco, why did you do it?"

"Well," he replied, getting a little bit heated, "I was kind of angry at you for not accepting my apology,"

"I did accept it...but we need time apart..."

"Anyways, in front of my friends, I had to say some...unflattering things," Draco sighed, looking down at his feet, "and I'm really sorry, 'cause I didn't mean it,"

Harry didn't really know what to say, and so remained silent. Whatever Skeeter got from Draco would definitely make for a horridly false article on Hagrid, and Draco should have known that Harry would get angry...so why did he come clean?

"What are you hoping to get out of telling me?"

"Nothing but forgiveness," Draco said, looking up at Harry; there was a whisper of a tear in his eye, and Harry's heart melted.

"This is really hard for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah...wasn't it hard for you, when you found out you were a wizard? Changing something you've known since birth – I've been brought up by my father in his ways since I can't remember, and I can't change overnight!"

"So, it's my fault too,"

"Not much," Draco conceded.

"Okay, so when the article comes out, be as mean as you can to me, rub it in my face, and do whatever you think is normal," Harry said after a couple of minutes of thinking, staring up now at the moon, "and that will throw everyone off, and then we should do something together,"

"You mean it?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled. He then looked around to see if anyone was near, and when he saw no one, he winked and said, "come here,"

Draco almost leaped forwards, so that he was sitting on the bench beside Harry, "yes?"

Harry leaned in near Draco, and then their lips met in a kiss, 'neath the stars. This time, instead of being conquered by the heat of passions as they were in the astronomy tower, a deeper, more potent force was bringing them together, and so it meant all the more. They only broke away after what seemed like forever, staring at one another, entranced at the moment they were now sharing.

"Harry...I think I..." Draco began in a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"L-luh, uh,"

"I think I know what you mean,"

"uhve, ooh..."

"Love you too," Harry smiled.

"Er, yeah," Draco nodded. They kissed briefly once more, before Harry spoke,

"Listen, I'm going to be rather busy all through January, and we probably should avoid each other so that no one doubts our 'fight'. But, after Hogsmeade, want to set something up?"

"I think I'd like that," Draco said, his heart pounding.

"Me too...I'll find you after the trip,"

"Okay,"

They were just about to kiss again when they heard giggling from the other side of the garden – it sounded like Cho and Cedric; Harry's heart plummeted, even though he was with the person he actually cared for.

"What on earth?" mumbled Draco, as he stood up and walked over in silence, and after he caught a glimpse of what was going on, he mouthed to Harry, "come look!"

"What?" Harry whispered,

Draco violently motioned for Harry to come over, and so he did...and squeaked in surprise. There was Cho, in her dress, wriggling around on the ground...he could see Cedric's body, below his shoulders, coming from between her legs...

"He's fucking blowing her!" Draco whispered excitedly, getting hard in a hurry.

Harry was simply embarrassed to see his sort-of crush ... getting _that_. He looked down Cedric's body, and saw something Draco obviously hadn't – the outline of Cedric's hard on! His pants were off, and through the thin boxers Harry could spy an absolutely massive cock, very _very_ wet at the tip...Harry was so incredibly aroused that he couldn't stand it and so he spun around.

"What?" Draco asked, slightly worried, "Harry?"

"We shouldn't be watching this,"

"Fine..." Draco shrugged, and so he gave Harry a peck on the cheek and headed up to the castle, "see you around, _Potter_,"

"Yeah," smiled Harry, watching Draco disappear through the doorway. Though he knew he shouldn't, he meandered back over to the bushes and stared at the couple. He watched as Cedric brought Cho to orgasm, who squirmed in ecstasy on the grass, and watched Cedric's erection beg to be let out.

Harry squeaked a bit, and suddenly Cedric's head reappeared from under Cho's dress. Though Cho was a little incapacitated, her orgasm still washing over her body, Cedric was much more alert, and he cocked his head to the side and met eyes with Harry.

Not knowing what to do, Harry simply stood still. Cedric silently pointed down, and so Harry lowered himself onto the grass so that he was out of sight.

"See you tomorrow?" Cedric said, pulling Cho's underwear back up.

"Yeah, of course, but don`t you want me to return the favour?" Cho giggled, her hand going down to his erection.

"No," Cedric said in a shaky voice.

"Okay," Cho shrugged, feeling a little odd at the situation. She grabbed her purse from the grass and walked away. As soon as she was out of sight, Cedric leapt up, pulled his pants up, and ran over to Harry, his erection still visible.

"What the fuck!" Cedric asked of the cowering Harry, "I try to help you, and you take it for a pass to watch Cho and I?"

"Well...I didn't _see_ anything," Harry shrugged, slowly standing up.

"You saw Cho get off, and you robbed me of my chance to," Cedric replied, motioning down to his groin.

"Sorry...I didn't come to spy...I was here with someone, but they left, and then I heard Cho, and wanted to make sure everything was alright, and...and..."Harry gulped, "say you two."

"That's nice of you, but I don't believe you."

"What?"

"I watched you tonight – your date , that Parvati girl, barely spent the night together, and she's very pretty! You were watching Draco Malfoy half the night!"

"Er – no I wasn't!"

"Don't lie, Harry, I can tell that you like him, and you obviously didn't do anything with Parvati or him here tonight,"

"I don't like him!"

"Yes you do...and it's okay...y'know, I've got a thing for boys myself," Cedric grinned, but quickly corrected himself, "well, actually, it's more of a dick fetish...guys just look better where it counts, y'know?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Harry nodded, "and I _was_ here with Malfoy, but you _cannot ever_ tell anyone about it!"

"Promise I'll keep it a secret," Cedric said, "on one condition,"

"And what's that?" asked Harry, feeling a hint of arousal.

"Let's see what you got?"

"Pardon me?"

"You heard me," Cedric said, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a gorgeously toned chest, "Strip,"

"No," Harry said, taken aback, though his erection clearly said 'yes', "what if we get caught?"

"We won't, trust me," Cedric responded, pulling off his shirt and working on his pants.

Though Harry was very hesitant, he eventually succumbed, not by force, but by intrigue. Sure, he'd seen Ron naked, but that was just as friends...and he'd had no problem learning from Oliver and teaching Colin, so there wasn't really any reason to not want an impromptu quick jerk off now, right?

Soon enough, both were completely naked. Harry was absolutely mesmerized with how long Cedric was – that _had_ to be more than seven and a half inches!

Cedric had had near-weekly circle jerks with his roomies in the Hufflepuff ever since third year, but he had never seen anyone as hot as Harry before...the boy was absolutely exquisite. Wasn't too muscled, well not really at all, but no real fat either. He looked so naturally formed, like he had just been transfigured from some beautiful flower, and wasn't marred by anything. Well, he had the scar, but that didn't impede the beauty of his face...

Harry was kind of turned off, looking at Cedric. Under Seamus' advice, Harry had taken a magical razor and did away with the unwanted hair down below, and the clean feeling of pure nudity had turned him off of ... _that hair_. It didn't help that Cedric's cock, no matter the fact that it was massive and oozing precum brilliantly, was really hairy. _Really_.

Cedric eyed up and down Harry's body, watching the Boy Who Lived enjoying his cock out, and pumped furiously with his right hand, casually toying with his balls with his left. Though he was slightly tempted to push a finger a little further back, he didn't know how far Harry was along his path of self discovery and thought better of it. Instead, he pulled back once...twice...three times, and shot his load; the pleasure was so much better than anything that Cho could have ever done, and he closed his eyes in enjoyment. When he opened them again, he was watching Harry stuff his erection back into his pants.

"That was bloody hot," Cedric smirked, "where's your cum?"

"Uh," Harry looked up at the sky; he hadn't actually cum, as Cedric had turned him off so much, "I got rid of my jizz the natural way, y'know...licked it up,"

"That almost makes me hard again!" Cedric said, playfully thrusting forth his softening cock.

_Oh god, please don't_, Harry thought. He quickly put on the rest of his clothes, and waved goodbye.

"Good luck in the bath!" Cedric winked.

"Yeah, thanks, see you around,"

_Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower alone. That had been extremely strange advice._

**Next Time: The Long Awaited Bath Scene!**

**Please R/R!**


	39. Chapter 39: The Bath

**VERY IMPORTANT: This scene is much easier to enjoy if you reread the relevant chapter in the Goblet of Fire (Chapter 25), and then take a look at this part; if not, that's fine, just enjoy! **

**And, BTW, I am no fan of Harry/Cedric, so that's why it wasn't really meant to be erotic...Harry doesn't really like all guys, just particulars, and we are just figuring out his type.**

**Italics as usual denote passages from the book; but later ones (with Harry and Draco) are used for speech emphases.**

_Lying to Hagrid wasn't quite like lying to anyone else. Harry went back to the castle later that afternoon with Ron and Hermione, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Hagrid's whiskery face as he had imagined Harry winning the Tournament. The incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on Harry's conscience that evening, and by the time he had got into bed, he had made up his mind – it was time to shelve his pride, and see if Cedric's hint was worth anything._

However, after dinner, he felt that he needed some peace for himself to not think, so he went off to library alone. Though Hermione had practically jumped at the chance to join him, Harry had been rather in need of some quiet time, and so told her no about ten thousand times.

He found a nice spot near the windows, and put his down on the table. So much was going on right now in his life – the Tournament, Draco, school, his scar, Voldemort – and he was in a need of a break. He didn't get one though, for someone sat down at his table and banged their fist on it.

"Fuck off!" Harry swore, groaning and gritting his teeth.

"Language, Potter, Language," came Malfoy's forced drawl.

Harry immediately raised his head and opened his eyes, smiling weakly at Draco, "You did an excellent job at taunting me in class,"

"Thank you, I've had practice," Draco smiled.

"And you definitely were a jerk in the article,"

"Listen...I told you I'm sorry!"

"I know, I know," Harry sighed, "I'm just tired right now, sorry,"

"That's fine," said Draco, "and when are you not going to be tired so that we can..."

"We can...?" Harry raised an eyebrow."

"You know, pick up where we left off?"

"Where did we leave off, exactly?"

Draco laughed, attracting the glare of death from Madam Pince, which caused him to immediately shut up, "You know," he continued in a whisper, "that night, up in the Astronomy Tower!"

Harry was now at the point of tiredness whereby he felt slightly tipsy, like his night with Seamus. So, without giving it too much thought, he suddenly piped in, "do you want to take a bath with me this Thursday?"

"Wha-uh, er, um, Harry!" Draco squeaked. Madam Pince broke the piece of chalk she randomly had in her hand, cocking her head to the side, eyes bulging.

Harry smiled coyly, "well?"

"But, uh, jeez...that's a little, whew, er, guh..."

"Words, please?"

"Fuck...don't you think tha- that's...um...a bit far?"

"What do you mean?"

"We've only ever made out, Harry," Draco gasped.

"If your knee hadn't fucking decided to pay me a 'compliment'," Harry licked his lips, "do you think we'd've gone further?"

"I don't know – it seems every time we try and do anything, we get caught or broken up somehow..."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "certainly seems like that,"

"So what do you think the odds are that we won't get caught at this?"

"It's in the Prefect's bath...and Cedric booked it for me the whole night,"

"You and Cedric did what?"

"I didn't do a damn thing, Draco," Harry shook his head, "I gave him a hint before, and he gave me a hand with the egg – said I needed to take a bath with it, so...want to join me after I figure it out?"

Draco was absolutely dumbstruck, and his face emphasized the fact.

"Yes?"

"Yes, Harry, I will be there."

Harry provided Draco with directions, told him to knock when he was there, and then left the library – they couldn't dare be seen together now if they were to be together later. Draco, on the other hand, stayed behind for an hour further, a dopey smile on his face, contemplating what it would be like...what Harry would look like naked...what they would do...

Suffice to say, Draco left the Library in a hunched position all the way back to his dormitory, where he shut himself in the privacy of his bed and dealt with the problem – twice.

_...Harry had swallowed a considerable amount of bubbles in shock. He stood up, spluttering, and saw the ghost of a very glum-looking girl cross-legged on top of one of the taps. It was Moaning Myrtle, who was usually to be heard in the S-bend of a toilet three floors below_.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! screamed Harry's mind; how was Harry supposed to entertain Draco with fucking Moaning Myrtle here to be the very exemplar of a cockblock.

"_Myrtle!" Harry said in outrage. "I'm – I'm not wearing anything!_ Get the fuck out of here!"

_The foam was so dense that this hardly mattered, but he had a nasty feeling that Myrtle had been spying on him from out of one of the taps ever since he had arrived_

_..._

"_See you, Myrtle...thanks for your help"_

"_Bye, bye," she said gloomily, and as Harry put on the Invisibility Cloak, he saw her zoom back up the tap._

Harry wanted to cry – an overwhelming pit in his stomach had formed, as he hadn't heard Draco at all! He was so disappointed, and was ready to punch Malfoy the moment he next saw him. He walked outside, under the invisibility cloak, and began to set out down the hall.

He turned a corner and almost banged into Draco, who was slinking around the corridor, doing his best to stay hidden from the light. He had in his arms a fluffy bath towel and robe, and had slicked his hair and...

Wait...

Was that...cologne? To a bath?

Harry suddenly felt underprepared; having just had a bath, he probably smelt like...water, and his fingers were a little dried out, and...

'You're not some girl getting ready for the prom!' his mind screamed at him, and yet his bodily sensations responded that they felt totally inadequate. It was his soul that settled the debate – 'Draco is in love, and did what he could to be best prepared for tonight; Harry is as prepared as he could be'.

Thus, Harry spun around and followed Draco until the two reached the requisite statue. Very calmly, Draco knocked once...twice...three times...and received no answer. A frown formed on his face, and he knocked a fourth time, this time much louder.

"Yes?" Harry said from behind him. Draco jumped, almost dropped his towel, and looked around

"Harry?" he whispered, squinting in order to see better in the darkness; though Harry was tempted to have a little fun and dance around him, he thought better of it and pulled off his cloak.

"You are late, you know," Harry said, pointing a finger at Draco playfully, "I've already had my bath,"

Draco's face showed signs of absolute horror; it was as if he was watching the entire world getting eaten up by a volcano, "so...so, it's off?"

"Nope," Harry grinned, "why would we call it off?"

"Oh, phew, just – worried, you know,"

"I think I've got a good idea of what you're feeling," Harry nodded. He walked over to the statue, provided the password, and then ushered Draco into the room.

"Well, mine's bigger," Draco shrugged, eying the room with amazement, "but less equipped,"

"Yeah, well, I've never been in a room this big anywhere but at Hogwarts, so you can just fuck off,"

"Oi, touchy Potter, are you?"

"Ha ha ha," Harry mocked him.

"We probably shouldn't argue," Draco piped in, "not tonight,"

"Tonight..." Harry gulped as he repeated the words softly. Suddenly, his heart rate began to climb and the tingling sensation at the back of the neck, most common before huge exams, started. His pulse was racing, and yet, as he stared at Draco, he couldn't help but notice that the other boy had no such worries.

"So, what did you want to do tonight?" Draco asked nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he walked over to the edge of the bathtub.

"Um...I thought we could talk..."

"Come on, we're going to be seeing each other naked, and you just expect us to talk?"

"Well, uh, I haven't really planned anything..."

"And yet you've gotten off to the idea of plenty, I'm sure,"

Jeez...what is this? Harry thought, "You too,"

"Oh, definitely," Draco winked, "Carmina!"

Suddenly, the soft soothing sounds of an orchestra began floating into the room – seemingly from nowhere...maybe out of a tap?

"What are you doing?"

"Little bit of music to set the...mood?" Draco smiled, "This is by a fantastic wizard, Piazzolla, called 'Milonga del Angel'. Like it?"

"Well, it's very pretty," Harry conceded, "but how do you want to, uhm, get started?"

"I'm not getting naked til you get naked," Draco stated matter-of-factly, casually turning some taps, allowing the bath to fill with water and bubbles.

"Me neither!" Harry immediately replied; he didn't want to seem so desperate to get Draco naked that he'd embarrass himself. However, luckily his heart had calmed down, but had sent the extra blood elsewhere in his body...

"Then, a game!" Draco said, pulling a pack of cards out of his hands, "Ever played poker?"

"Yeah, with Ron, couple o' times,"

"Ever played..." Draco paused with a gleam in his eye, "strip poker?"

"N-no,"

"Good; shall we?"

"Sh-ur, yeah, sure..." Harry nodded, perhaps a little too vigourously.

The two walked over to the large plateau beside the tub, and Draco dealt. He had his robe, socks and pyjamas underneath, whereas Harry had his pyjamas, socks and glasses; thus, each were fairly distributed, with five pieces of clothing.

Draco easily won the first hand – four jacks versus a pair of eights, and so Harry willingly pulled off a sock. Harry won the second, only by virtue of a higher two-pair, and also the third, but lost to the fourth.

"Boring!" Draco moaned as he shuffled the cards in his hands, observing that the two had now only nude feet; this hand was more provocative, as he lost his bathrobe.

"Take it off, Potter," Draco said as he flipped the cards, winning over Harry with highest card; begrudgingly, Harry pulled off his shirt, revealing to Draco his toned chest...though Draco had seen Alcibiades naked before, seeing Harry just nude above the waist was a thousand times hotter. He couldn't help but get hard at the Goldylocks sight – he wasn't too muscled or too thin, but just perfectly lithe.

"My turn," Harry said, grabbing the deck of cards. He fared better this time, and managed to totally own Draco, with a flush over a pair, and made Draco remove his own shirt; though Harry had seen Draco topless before, and Ron, and Seamus, and Cedric, and Oliver, and a bit of Colin, the knowledge that something beyond anything before was going to happen aroused him more than he had ever been.

Draco was very careful to put on a show and not reveal just how eager he was to strip and tackle Harry into the tub; so, he only inched the shirt off, bit by bit, so that it crept up, revealing first his belly button, then each successive rib, pausing before revealing his nipples, and then he fully removed it. His hair was in slight disarray, and though he would normally be concerned, the plan for a bath removed any concern.

"You're...beautiful..." Harry whispered, blushing immediately – he felt like such a girl, fawning over a crush.

"You're not too bad yourself, you know," Draco shrugged, casually rubbing down his stomach. Both their erections were clearly visible through their pyjama pants, and yet they continued playing poker.

In this round: first three cards were a king (spades), king (hearts), and seven (clubs). The next was the four of hearts, and then the last was seven (spades).

"What'ya got, Harry?" Draco imitated his normal sneer, leisurely lying down his king (clubs) and three (hearts), "I've got a full house, three high,"

Harry laughed, and put down his first card – it was the last king. Draco eyed him suspiciously, waiting for him to put down the next card.

His wrist shaking, Harry threw down the next card: the three of spades.

"Full house, three high," Draco said in amazement. There was no way...was there?

"So what do we do now?"

"Well, it's a draw. So, either neither of us do anything, or both of us remove something,"

"Um, the tub's done," Harry pointed out; he then stood up, erection clearly visible, and walked over to shut off the taps, "so whatever we do, we should do it quickly, so the water stays warm,"

"Alright...lose the trousers, Potter,"

"Apres vous, Malfoy," Harry said, using some of the French he had learnt from the Yule Ball and Fleur.

"Same time!" Draco corrected him, "one...two...three..."

With that, Draco stood up, whisked down his pyjama bottoms and kicked them off, standing fully naked, hard, hot, sweaty, and ready. Harry was just as quick to react, stripping in under two seconds and then putting his hands on his hips, showing off to Malfoy in a "take me" pose.

Though he was blushing like a tomato, Draco eyed up Harry as Harry surveyed Draco, and the two then asked the same question of each other,

"What's wrong with your dick?"

"Uh, my dick's normal, thank you very much!" Draco scoffed, "you have no foreskin!"

"What the fuck's foreskin?" Harry replied, staring intently at the other boy's cock...

"It's..." Draco turned away, shielding his privates, "na-natural,"

"Well, everyone I've seen has been like me,"

"Oh, what's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're not the first boy I've seen naked,"

"What the fuck? How many boys have you been with before me?" Draco said, reaching for his pyjama bottoms.

"I haven't _been_ with anyone, Draco, but, like I said, I've...seen other guys,"

"Oh yeah, whom?" Draco asked, having put on his pyjama pants. Not wanting to be the odd one out, Harry capitulated and put back on his pyjamas.

"Um, Oliver,"

"Who?"

"Oliver...the keeper for Gryffindor in past years,"

"Okay..." Draco sat down on the tile nearest the bath.

Harry was ready to continue, but suddenly Draco entranced him further then he had ever done so before. The boy looked half attentive, yet somewhat in the midst of a dream, his face both distant and yet emotional. He traced a hand idly on the fair surface of the water, in and around little pockets of bubbles, his breathing soft and steady.

"I'm listening," Draco said after a minute of silence – the music had since stopped, and the taps were no longer going, and so all the world seemed fixed on Harry's next words.

"I've, I, er, um...well, you see, Ron and I have gotten o-, no, uhm, well, I taught him how to ma-masturbate, and so we've done it together sometimes, but not recently," Harry now paused, unsure of how much more to say, "saw Colin Creevey once, and Seamus..."

"Wow," Draco said in a weak voice, "that's quite a few,"

"But I've never felt anything for them! A hard on isn't love..." Harry stuttered, "_this_ is,"

Yep, Harry was definitely NOT going to tell Draco about Cedric, especially since they had professed their feelings the very night in question, so he stopped there.

"I suppose I'm not, well, _entirely_ innocent myself," Draco licked his lips, slowly standing up and awakening from his dreary state, "there's a boy,"

"That I should be worried about?" Harry finished for him.

"No," Draco immediately shot back, "he's actually a magical statue who can come to life, and he lives in my manor...I've only seen him twice, and he's gotten me off,"

"Well, the worst I've ever done is gotten other guys off," Harry shrugged, moving beside Draco.

"I've kind of...gotten a blow job before,"

"What?" Harry seemed genuinely shocked, "from a fucking _statue_?"

"Yes...he's designed to pleasure and supposedly instruct...guys...on how to do stuff,"

"And so he taught you how to _blow_ did he?"

"Not exactly...it was deeper than that,"

"He shoved a finger up your ass?"

Draco gave Harry a resounding smack on the arm, playfully, "fuck off, no! We talked about problems of the soul, not of the world,"

"Oh,"

"But now that I know that you're so eager to get buggered up the arse,"

"I am not!"

Draco smiled slightly, "but let's not worry about that, or each other's cocks..."

"Well, not _too_ much, you mean,"

"Yeah...water's going to go cold if we don't hop in,"

"Sounds good!" Harry said, whisking off his bottoms and glasses, diving (cannonball) into the bathtub, still hard as a rock. He washed the water from his eyes and looked at Draco expectantly.

"Don't look as I get in," Draco said, covering the tent in his pants with a hand.

"For fuck's sake, I've just seen you naked!" Harry protested, "and if all goes well –"

"What? If all goes well _what_?"

"Um, I was ready to, um, get you off!" Harry smiled nervously.

"How so?"

"With my hand, or my..." Harry paused for effect "...tongue,"

"Fuck, I may as well cream myself here," Draco shuddered.

"Surely you can get off more than once per night,"

"I bet I can get off more than you ever could in one night!"

"No you couldn't!"

"Okay, hold on," Draco interrupted, "grand as it would be to spend the night trying to get each other off more than the other, I think we ought conserve energy,"

"Pussy,"

"Fucking stop, or I'll go!"

"You don't have the balls to go," Harry chuckled in retort.

"Yeah, I do!" Draco said, yanking down his pyjama pants, grabbing his balls with his left hand, "see!"

"Oh, I see," Harry said, slowly changing position in the water so that he came to float on his back, cock up in the air,

"Nice," Draco said before elegantly diving into the large body of water, splashing Harry and nearly making him capsize.

"So, what next?" Harry asked as Draco brushed the water from his eyes.

"This!"

Draco grabbed across Harry's chest, pulling him underwater before righting him so that both were standing (albeit on their tip-toes) up straight, and Draco kissed him. He pushed his tongue into the other boy's mouth – a first for him, even with his experience with Alcibiades – nearly knocking Harry back into the water.

One of Harry's hands clumsily gripped Draco's neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, while the other groped at the blonde's back, tracing circles on the soft skin. Somehow, the Slytherin was able to bring his hands up to the Gryffindor's firm chest, gracing over a nipple with his right as his left trailed down the lean stomach to his belly button.

Harry moaned into Draco's mouth as their cocks finally lined up – never before had he felt such a tantalizingly erotic impulse, as every fibre of his body screamed out in pleasure at what one other boy, Draco Fucking Malfoy, Prince of Purebloods, was doing to him. Thus, in a hope to return even the slightest amount of pleasure, a hand moved down and gripped their cocks together; Harry pulled down hard, and suddenly Draco broke away from the kiss, opening his eyes and staring at the other boy.

"That fucking hurt, Potter," Draco said, thrusting his cock up and out of Harry's grip, "you've got to be gentle,"

"Felt good to me," Harry said, his hands now having moved to hold Draco's hips

"Because I have, er, _skin_ down there, it can hurt if you pull it the wrong way,"

"You should've told me that," Harry responded quickly,

"I'm telling you now," said Draco as he used his own hand to rejoin their cocks, allowing their balls to meet one another, and pulling once more – this time, both could feel pleasure and not pain. However, the pleasure was just a bit too great to handle, and both came in the water. Lost in their pleasure, held firmly to one another, they thrust their groins together, truly 'crossing swords', as they rode out their orgasm.

Feeling far too sated, Draco released his grip and floated backwards, breathing heavily, whispering "wow" in intermittent breaths.

Harry too fell back, but due to the less-than-perfect nature of the tub, he fell back against the wall,

"Ow!" he cried in response.

"You alright?" Draco immediately looked over, swimming nearby.

"Yeah, I'm fine...tile's a bitch, though,"

"Yeah, can be," Draco said, getting closer. As the bubbles had begun to fade, Harry could observe that both he and Draco were just as hard as they had been before their release, and in need of something more to polish themselves off for the evening, "Listen, I've got an idea,"

"Oh?"

"Lie back against the tile wall, outstretch your arms, and close your eyes,"

"Why?"

"Just trust me,"

"Alright," Harry sighed, stretching out his arms on the ledge, closing his eyes reluctantly.

Draco dipped his head beneath the water and then swum over to the eager Harry. The blonde gripped at the bend in the black haired boy's knees and Harry let out a shout of surprise Draco couldn't hear as his legs were lifted out from under him. He gripped the ledge tighter, as it was his only support from falling in the water which was now splashing him because of the movement.

Draco surfaced holding Harry's legs; Harry let out a surprised hiss when his member was suddenly exposed to the open, cold air. He snapped his head to look straight at it. His dick was just level with his head, still leaking seed slightly, erect between the two. Draco stared at the package before his eyes, before experimentally giving a quick lick over his balls.

"Ah!" Harry exclaimed, flailing around a bit, before refocusing his gaze at Draco, "what do you think you are doing?"

"With luck, I'm going to blow you," Draco smirked, blowing cool air on the tip of Harry's cock, "Eager much?"

"Obviously," Harry said, staring down past his dick at Draco, "it's a mouth, and it's going to feel good,"

"Fair enough," Draco shrugged before closing his mouth around the tip of Harry's cock and..sucking.

Harry thrust up, driving his cock up to the very back of Draco's throat, causing him to choke slightly before pulling off completely. Harry was panting and tingling with pleasure, but could still give an evil glare down to Draco.

"What the _fuck!_" Harry gasped.

"You fucked my throat!" Draco responded in a raspy voice.

"It felt good!"

"Yeah, well it didn't for me," Draco said as he gave a cough.

"Does that mean you're going to stop?"

"No,"

With that, Draco moved his hands down onto Harry's pelvis, holding it down so that he could once more dip down lick the tip of Harry's weeping cock. Though he involuntarily thrust up, Draco's hands stopped him, and so he continued. Harry gasped, and Draco began moving, his mouth and tongue sliding up and down, swirling small circles around the shaft. Harry, breathing deeply, could do nothing but lie back, eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling, seeing tiny stars in the bubbles floating up. However, the subtle scraping of teeth near the base of his cock caused him to pull out of Draco's mouth in horror.

"Fuck, don't bite it off!" Harry exclaimed as Draco looked up, "I thought you said you had training in this!"

"Well, I've _been_ sucked off, but never sucked anyone off," Draco shrugged, "and so you will have the same experience when you blow _me_,"

"What makes you think I'm doing you?"

"The fact that I'm going to stop right now if you don't swear to do it!"

Though Harry playfully tossed the idea around in his head, he could not imagine allowing their activities to cease here, so he nodded and closed his eyes. He felt the heat of Draco's mouth swallow him once again, and then felt the ghost of a hand slowly massaging his balls, and he screamed. Every muscle in his body tensed at once and his back arched up, driving his cock deeper into Draco's mouth as he came. Sharp pleasures coursed through his stomach and groin, causing his thighs to quiver and his body to spasm as he shot his load into Draco's waiting mouth. As they had already gotten off once before, he didn't cum much, but Draco nevertheless choked as it slid down his throat.

"Fuck, P-Potter, you could've fucking warned me!" Draco complained as he pulled off violently, allowing Harry's now flaccid body to slide into the bath tub. Though he almost couldn't give a damn about anything at the moment save for how good he felt, Harry knew he had to keep breathing and so he surfaced from the pool, taking in deep breaths, looking at Draco.

"That was brilliant," Harry sighed, moving over to kiss Draco, tasting his essence on the tip of Draco's tongue, "_you_ were brilliant,"

"Of course,"

"Best use of your mouth I've ever seen," Harry chuckled, before Draco gave him a playful slap on the chest, "So, ready for your turn?"

"Actually, I came already,"

"So did I, but we can do it twice, right?"

"No, Harry, I mean, I came whilst, uh, sucking you off,"

"Ooh, hot!" Harry smiled, reaching down to feel Draco's soft cock floating in the water.

"Yeah, but you definitely owe me,"

"Of course,"

"Maybe later,"

"If you insist," Harry replied, swimming over to the side, pulling himself up and out of the cooling pool, tumbling onto the tile and lying there, panting.

"But that was good," Draco commented as he pulled himself out of the pool, towelling himself off before putting on his pyjamas once more. He threw Harry his own pyjamas, and reluctantly, Harry put them on.

"I've got to go," Draco said as he slipped on his bath robe and grabbed his towel, "I told Vincent and Gregory that I'd be back before midnight,"

"Where do they think you are?"

"I told them that I was going to Quidditch practice,"

"In your bathrobe?"

"No, I was in gear, but I ditched it in my locker; I've got to get it before I go back,"

"Good luck, don't get caught," Harry muttered, still lying on his back, idly tracing over his stomach muscles 'neath his shirt.

"Night, _Potter_,"

And with that, Draco left the room, and Harry resided there a further ten minutes, still aglow in the pleasure of the evening. Eventually, reluctantly, he knew that he had to leave, and so he stood up, grabbed his stuff, put on his cloak, and left the room.

_Out in the dark corridor, Harry examined the Marauder's Map to check that the coast was still clear. Yes, the dots belonging to Filch and Mrs. Norris were safely in their office ... nothing else seemed to be moving apart from _Draco going to his dorm and_ Peeves, who was bouncing around the trophy room on the floor above..._

**I'm so very excited for what you thought of style, story, plot, smut, everything!**


	40. Chapter 40: 10 Things

**We meet our intrepid heroes at the beginning of Chapter 26 (GoF)...**

**Italics, as usual, denote the passages from the book (at beginning and end).**

"_You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky," said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window._

"_You just want to think Snape's up to something," said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box._

"_I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one," said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his very great surprise, flew straight across the room, and landed neatly on top of Hermione's._

Just as they were leaving the classroom, Draco Malfoy coughed and Harry spun around.

"Potter," Draco said in his usual, forced drawl, "we need to talk,"

"He's nothin' to say to you, Malfoy," Ron said as he turned around, forcing his hands into fists.

"I've sent away my goons," Draco pointed to the doors where Crabbe and Goyle were leaving, "so can't you send away yours?"

"Ron, don't worry," Harry said, shrugging as his friends grudgingly turned away and out the door. Professor Flitwick had run off ahead of everyone to the staff room, so they were now alone.

"Missed you," Draco said as he cheekily gave Harry a quick kiss; however, slightly paranoid, he pulled back to sit on the nearby table.

"Yeah, missed you too..." Harry said in whisper, finding it odd to be saying those words...to Draco. It hadn't hit him yet, really, that they were in a relationship; the screwing around was nice, and the two or so nights they had spent talking was alright, and saying "I love you" was different, but he had done (almost) all that with other boys; now, to be missed? What was this?

"So...I was thinking we should go on a date soon..." Draco smiled, provocatively massaging his groin, allowing the ghost of an erection to form.

"Look, Draco,"

"Oh, what? Had your fun, now you're done?"

"No!" Harry said sharply, "It's not that,"

"Then what?"

"Listen: the second task is coming up quickly, and I still haven't prepared,"

"Why not? What was the point of the egg, then?"

"It told me that I would have to rescue something precious to me from the lake, but I haven't a clue as to how to breathe underwater for so long,"

"Jeez...way to forget that I exist," Draco huffed, crossing his arms, "Have you forgotten that your..."

"My what?"

"Your, uh," Draco swallowed, "your _boy_friend, me, has access to certain books that no library has,"

"Really?" Harry cocked an eyebrow, licking his lips tentatively; he may have been worried about the 'together' thing, but the term boyfriend actually turned him on a bit...okay, a lot.

"Well we should set up a, you know, date, where you come over to my room and...check out some things," Draco winked.

"How on earth will I get to your dorm?"

"You've got an invisibility cloak, and the password is _purity_, and the dormitory is –"

"I know where it is," Harry laughed, before quickly slamming a hand over his face.

"_How_ exactly do you know where my dormitory is?"

"Uh," Harry panicked, shaking his head, "I don't?"

"Yes, you just said you did..." Draco suddenly strode forward, a shocking look of revelation widening across his face, "_YOU_ jizzed on my pyjama pants in second year!"

"Hot, don't you think?" Harry grinned sheepishly.

"Ugh...that was...how di d you...what the fuck?..." Draco started rambling, pacing around in front of Harry.

"I have my ways, as you most certainly have yours," Harry replied immediately.

"Yeah, like _what_?"

"Like making me hard whenever I look at you,"

"Oh...fuck that's hot..."

"Or making me cum four times, by myself, in one night," Harry leaned in, grabbing Draco and rubbing their erections together.

"Now?" Draco squeaked, going wide-eyed.

"Why not?"

"Harry...you're being _so_ forward..."

"Turns you on, doesn't it?"

"Listen," Draco said, eventually finding the strength to kiss Harry long enough to distract him and break the embrace, "class starts in ten minutes here, so we can't do anything. However, you should come down into the dormitory entrance, say around 10:00p.m. tonight; I have my own room, where we shouldn't be disturbed, and you can look for what you need _and_ be satisfied at least once,"

"Sounds like a date," Harry smirked, pulling loose his robes to cover his throbbing erection and running off to join Ron in class.

...

After spending twenty minutes just trying to convince Hermione and Ron that he was taking a bath without the egg for a good reason, Harry was finally able to flee out the portrait hole and, invisibly, sneak down to Draco's dormitory.

Standing at the doorway once Harry got inside was a very cold-looking Draco, slightly warmed by his half-hard erection, which was veiled behind the see-through silk pyjamas he was wearing. He looked like he had expected to wait no more than two minutes to get Harry, but was willing to brave it out in expectation of what was to come...

"Harry?" he hissed in the black quiet.

"Sorry love," Harry whispered back, "had to keep the friends at bay,"

"Okay, follow me," Draco waved Harry forwards, down a passage way or two, through a door, past a row of sleeping fourth year boys, and then to a private room, candlelight flooding under the door. Once through the door, Harry found himself in a magnificent room, larger than the first floor of the Dursley's whole house.

"How the fuck did you get such a huge room?" Harry gaped, throwing off his cloak as Draco shut the door and muttered _silencio_.

"To be honest, I didn't really want this; father insisted that I get this room, no matter Dumbledore's comments on the matter," Draco said timidly, "but now that I have, uh, _you_ here with me, maybe privacy's not such a bad thing after all..."

"No, not at all,"

"So, what do you want to do?"

"What do _you_ want to do?"

Draco gave Harry a swift reply with a firm kiss on the lips, and a full embrace. His pyjamas, had it not been for his erection, would have most certainly fallen off his shapeless hips by now, and Harry finished the job. Eager, he too stripped off his pyjama pants, allowing both erections to be finally free in the air.

A bit of tongue here, a grab of the arse there, a fondling of balls here, a suck there, and soon both boys were covered in one another's cum, lying on Draco's bed. Both were breathing heavily as they spooned, Harry on the outside and Draco within. Though they were still hard, neither of them really felt like moving. In fact, they stayed the very same way for twenty minutes, Harry tracing his fingers up and down Draco's smooth chest and Draco gently kissing Harry.

"You know," Draco sighed, feeling Harry's cock rub between his legs, I realize that we don't really know too much about one another,"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know my favourite colour? Food? Song? Wizard?"

"Green, venom, Imperial March, and Voldemort?"

"Fuck you," Draco said, breaking the position and rolling over onto his side, facing Harry, "I bet yours are red, cock, YMCA, and Dumbledore?"

"Maybe...well, two out of four,"

"Cock and Dumbledore?"

"Fuck..." Harry said, giggling as he outstretched an arm and tickled Draco slightly, feeling up to his hairless underarms and provoking seizure-like thrusts from his boyfriend.

"S-stop i-ittt..." Draco squealed as he writhed.

"Not on your life!" Harry retorted, grabbing a pillow and engaging a fight which lasted several minutes; by its end, pillows and covers were askew, and both had cum once again. Now, they were sufficiently flaccid, so Draco pulled on his nighttime robes and Harry put on a pair of pyjamas, and the two walked over to a tall bookshelf, loaded with books.

"Ah, this is the one," Draco said, grabbing one near the bottom, " 'Magica Aquae', by Matilda Webbensfoot,"

"Wow," Harry gasped, looking over the ancient book; it was at least a hundred years old, studded with rubies, slightly worn around the edges. He opened to the index, searching 'water breathing', coming up with three results. The first required the polyjuice potion and a dolphin's hair ("wtf?" asked Draco), the second suggested transfiguration, and the third needed very rare herbs that could be bought only in Knockturn Alley.

"I could _try_ and get some from my father..."

"No, it would be too late," Harry said sadly.

"You never know," Draco commented, pulling a sad face.

"Yeah, I think I do," Harry wandered over to the bed before plopping down on it, "come here,"

"Oh hells yeah," Draco practically leaped over, and then jumped on Harry, pressing him into the bed and kissing him full on the lips. Their mouths opened to allow one another passage into the other's mouth, exploring...

However, sensing arousal growing, Draco pulled off and then snuggled in beside Harry on the bed, nuzzling his hair against Harry's bare chest.

"I don't think I've ever been more comfortable in my whole life," Harry said, idly stroking Draco's ear with a finger.

"I've never felt so...safe..." Draco said, closing his eyes as he listened to Harry's heart pound softly.

"So...my favourite colour _is_ red," Harry said after a couple of moments, "I don't really have a favourite song, my favourite food is _not_ cock, or else you should be worried, it's actually meat pie, and I do idolize Dumbledore..."

"You were right about the green, I prefer filet mignon to venom, don't know what the imperial march is, and actually idolize the wizard Merlin. My favourite song is Menuet Antique, by Ravel...I can play it the best," Draco sighed without opening his eyes.

"You can _play_ it?"

"Yeah, why? Didn't you know I could play piano?"

"No..." Harry sat up, causing Draco to roll onto his side in a drowsy, sleepy stupor, "I didn't,"

"Since I was five,"

"Why haven't you ever said anything about it?"

"Boys might think it too girly,"

"Oh yeah?" Harry pouted his lips, looking _oh_ so sexy, "well I find it hot..."

"You find everything hot,"

"Point taken, and one thing you may not know about me is that my parents were rich,"

"Kind of knew that, sorry," Draco smirked.

"Okay, you ask me something you _don't _know, then,"

"Alright...what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?"

"Licking up cum," Harry replied after a moment's thought.

"Whose? You still owe me a blow job!"

"Seamus...we were drunk after the first challenge, and he got off, and though I made sure to save my blow job virginity for you, I, uh, licked his cum off his stomach..."

"That's really..." Draco paused, his erection growing, "actually kind of hot,"

"My turn – how many boys are you attracted to at school?"

Draco counted on one hand...then two...then used his hand again for three... "about 12,"

"Wow...I am really only attracted to _you_ and, on occasion, Seamus,"

"Well, Seamus is an alright looking bloke," Draco conceded, "but you're the hottest on my list,"

"Love you," Harry kissed Draco,

"Ditto," Draco sighed – this, truly, was perfection. "Um, how many languages can you speak?"

"Two: English and Parseltongue. You?"

"I can speak English and French, but I know ancient Latin,"

"Wow...dead language man right here!"

"Knock it off...almost all of our spells were invented by the Romans,"

"Oh yeah, then why'd they die?"

"Christianity," Draco shrugged. Slowly, he began unravelling his robes, allowing his erection slightly more room to enjoy itself in.

"What's the one thing you wish you could change about yourself?" Harry asked.

"My hair...it takes _so_ much maintenance," Draco smiled, "but it's worth it for you,"

"I just wish this damn lightning bolt would leave my head for good,"

"Oh," Draco said, suddenly realizing that this was getting to a deeper conversation, "play any instruments?"

"No, and I now know you play piano,"

"Right...well, what's your favourite book?"

"I personally prefer not reading, but if I had to choose, I really liked Ron's Quidditch book he gave me,"

"I, however, like best Dante's Divine Comedy," Draco said, mocking himself with his drawl, "it's way better than anything you've ever read,"

"Probably..."

"Okay...last question, what do you like best about me?"

"Well, it's a draw between your cock," Harry said in mock ponder, before being smacked across the head with a pillow, "and the fact that every day I get to know something more about you that I never knew, which I don't do with anyone else.

"Deep," Draco retorted, "I think your hatred of your own fame is most sexy, followed by your...tight body..."

"Thanks," Harry rolled his eyes, "but, I should probably be going,"

"Why so soon?"

"It's been two hours, and I think they might worry,"

"Fine," Draco said, folding his arms, "you know the way out,"

"But it's so hard to take," Harry said, pouncing on Draco's bed and pulling him in for a deep, long kiss. No matter how much he wanted to suck Draco off right then and there before going, however, something inside him told him to wait.

"Bye," Draco waved in ecstasy as Harry became invisible and left.

...

Mostly_ obedient to Sirius' wish of hearing about anything odd at Hogwarts, Harry sent him a letter by brown owl that night, explaining all about Mr Crouch breaking into Snape's office, and Moody and Snape's conversation._

**Please R/R! It's all we get to write for!**


	41. Chapter 41: The Unexpected Knower

**Same deal with italics, and we pick up in Chapter 26.**

_Just as it had done before he had faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast. There was a week to go before February the twenty-fourth (there was still time)...there were five days to go (he was bound to find something soon)...three days to go (please let me find something ...please...)_

On that evening, as Harry was walking through the Hallways to dinner with Ron and Hermione, Dumbledore strode out from an alcove behind them.

"Harry," he said in his wispy voice, coughing a bit into his hands, "I believe I need a few words with you,"

"Oh, yes, Professor," Harry said, turning around. Ron and Hermione gave him a thumbs up and walked along to dinner, leaving the two alone.

"To my office, perhaps?"

"Sure,"

As usual, being with Dumbledore calmed Harry's woes down and Harry enjoyed a leisurely walk to Dumbledore's office. The two entered, and Dumbledore sat in his usual chair behind his desk and Harry sat opposite to him.

"Wh-what's this about, Professor?" Harry asked, fiddling with a pen between his fingers.

"Have you yet heard the clue from the egg?" He asked, tenting his fingers and lying back in his chair.

"Oh, yes sir,"

"What did it say?"

"Something about taking what I will sorely miss, and having only an hour to retrieve it from the lake and merpeople," Harry said, reciting off facts on his fingers.

"Have you yet figured out what you will surely miss?"

"Nope,"

"Give a guess,"

"My wand, or my broom...or, would they take some_one_?"

"The latter _is_ the intention,"

"What, like Ron or Hermione?"

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed, sitting forwards in his seat, placing his hands on the table, "I meant Draco Malfoy,"

Harry's heart plummeted into his stomach, and he really felt like he wanted to throw up. His vision blurred, marred by the stirrings of tears, and his voice cracked as he replied, "h-how d-di-did you know?"

"When the Gryffindor portrait and Slytherin statue both complain to me of invisible guests in the middle of the night, and I being a curious old man begin to investigate, it becomes rather clear that someone is making inappropriate visits...and who in Gryffindor would possibly ever have the invisibility cloak and daring in order to visit the Slytherin common room?"

"M-me," Harry sighed, fighting back tears.

"Harry, Harry my lad, you need not worry at all," Dumbledore said, outstretching a hand onto Harry's shoulder, "whatever is between you and Mr. Malfoy is none of my business, but the castle has told me that you two are pretty close to one another,"

"We're just...just d-dating,"

"Congratulations," Dumbledore clapped his hands together, resuming his casual position back in the chair, "and though I do not like to put myself in the private affairs of students, I bring up the topic because the merpeople wished to take him."

"No! No no no, they can't!"

"Which is why I wished to speak with you, to see if you were ready or not to tell your peers,"

"No, professor, it needs to stay secret," Harry said, finally regaining his composure.

"I totally understand," Dumbledore nodded, "and so it shall,"

"And is that it?" Harry asked, "slowly standing up,"

"For the most part, yes,"

"Okay,"

"Don't worry, Harry, I know what you are going through," Dumbledore said as Harry walked to the door, "just be sure that you realize that, in the end, all secrets come to the surface eventually,"

With that, Harry ran out the door. However, he was too upset to go for dinner and so retreated back to the Gryffindor common room, and then up to his bed. He burst into the room, ran to his bed, and collapsed into tears on the bed.

"Hey!" a voice called out, followed by the sounds of sheets rustling, "little privacy, eh mate?"

"Seamus?" Harry asked between tears, shoving his face into a pillow.

"Hey, what's wrong?" the sandy-haired boy asked, throwing off his covers. He was naked and, obviously, wanking, so he threw on a pair of very tight y-fronts and walked over to Harry's bed. He sat cross-legged at the top of the bed, and rubbed a hand on Harry's back.

"Nothing," Harry grumbled through the pillow.

"It's got to be something!" Seamus insisted.

"Can you _really_ keep a secret?" Harry asked, lifting his head slightly up off the pillow, tears leaving a wet stain.

"Is this a secret that you've told Ron?"

"Not even Ron, or Hermione,"

"Wow..." Seamus grinned, casually rubbing his cock through his underwear.

"You know how I, y'know, like boys?"

"Oh yes I do" Seamus said, putting a hand down his y-fronts.

"Not you," Harry shook his head, watching the wet tip of his cock protruding near his head.

"I knew that,"

"You have to promise to never, ever tell another soul!"

"Okay,"

"I am in love...with...Draco Malfoy,"

"Like, the guy in Slytherin, like the jerk in Slytherin, like the Deatheater's son?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, "I love him,"

"Does he know that?"

"Of course – we've known about this since the summer, and we've gone on a couple of dates, he blew me..."

"Woah, wait, you've done it?"

"No, no, no," Harry shook his head vigourously, "we took a bath together, and he blew me, and I still owe him,"

"Is that why you're upset?"

"No...it's just that, well, Dumbledore found out, and if he could, anyone could!"

"Uh, Harry," Seamus finally took his hand out of his pants, "Dumbledore is not 'any wizard'...he's the most brilliant wizard living, and he just _knows_ things,"

"But...here's the thing...that doesn't disturb me as much as the fact that...I am scared that people could find out,"

"Why? It's a scary thing, being outed,"

"How would you know? Only I know about you,"

"My village back home...knows..." Seamus said, looking up at the canopy of the bed.

"I told Draco that I would be ready to tell everyone as soon as he was, but now that someone knows, I feel really, _really _scared," Harry sighed, moving up into a sitting position. Casually he threw off his outer robes, and undid his buttoned shirt. Pretty soon, he was left comfortable in his boxers and undershirt, his cock beginning to get hard.

"Don't worry, Harry, it'll be okay," Seamus said, lying back on the bed. Once more he was at full mast, leaking precum and ready to go, "you just need to have some more time to just feel comfortable with who you are,"

"I guess...because I've never really thought about myself and my affairs, after all these years of thinking about Voldemort, and the Tournament, and the Basilisk, and..."

"Exactly, you need time to figure out your own life,"

"But, but...I can't," Harry said, crumpling his hand into a fist, "I've got to focus on the second task, and then the third, and then fifth year and OWLS, and then Sixth Year, and then NEWTS in Seventh, and then Auror training, and then..."

"Harry...relax, now is now; you need to realize this! There's no point in worrying too much about the rest, hopelessly losing the past and not yet having the future; focus on yourself,"

Harry did not know why, but he suddenly reached out, rubbed the side of Seamus' face, and kissed him. They broke apart, Seamus shocked and Harry intrigued,

"I don't know why I did that,"

"But I'm glad you did that," Seamus replied, kissing him back.

"Wait!" Harry said, pulling back, "I can't do this...I love Draco,"

"Well, think of this as a training exercise that will remove some stress,"

"I don't think I can do that..."

"I can teach you how to give Draco a _really_ good blow job,"

"I thought I told you that I was going to save it for someone special,"

Seamus, not at all put out, traced down his chest in a zigzag pattern, sleekly pinching a nipple between two fingers, "I promise you'll not regret it,"

"We'd get caught by everyone..."

"I can get you done in two minutes, and you could probably do me in five,"

"Listen, I don't know..."

"Oh, come on!" Seamus whispered into Harry's ear, sliding his boxers off, revealing to Harry his throbbing erection; he pulled on it a couple of times, and then slid his hands down to his balls, massaging each one while thrusting forwards, "I shaved yesterday,"

With daring and courage, as befits a Gryffindor, Harry yanked off his boxers and allowed his erection to spring free. They touched the heads of their cocks together, mixing precum with precum, and Seamus slid a hand down to grab Harry's ass, eliciting a moan from the other boy.

"Mmm...that _does_ feel good," Harry said before kissing Seamus on the cheek, and then whispering into his ear, "ready to give me a suck?"

"I've been waiting for a while," Seamus said, pecking him back before sliding down Harry's body, "ready to learn how to give a good blow job?"

"Hells yeah," Harry said, pulling his shirt up and over his head, before lying back and exposing his cock. Seamus wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft, and moved in close, "first you need to give him something to wet his appetite," Seamus said as he gave a casual lick over Harry's weeping cock.

"Fuck...that's brilliant," Harry groaned, twisting his hands into the sheets, "keep going,"

"Then, start low, and work up," Seamus said as he placed his tongue at the very base of his shaft, before sliding his tongue all the way up to the tip, before sticking his tongue ever so gently into the little slit.

"Now, balls are _very_ important in the whole process," Seamus continued, "always use a hand to, whilst gripping the base of the shaft, to massage them, and make sure to visit them with your tongue at least twice" he licked up from the very bottom of Harry's balls, sucking one into his mouth, playing around with it, before releasing it and exhaling on it.

"Oh my god, I think I'm going to cum..."

"And that's what you want to hear..." Seamus winked, looking up at Harry, "all the time; but when you feel his balls tighten, you want to, ever so gently, use your finger..."

"I'm so close!" Harry shouted.

"Stick in the finger," Seamus said, watching Harry thrust forwards in sheer pleasure as a finger went up his ass, "and then immediately suck him dry,"

Harry came immediately, shooting a heavy load into Seamus' eager mouth, yelling loudly as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. He thrust so deeply that he was surprised Seamus could cope with all of him, and yet somehow he did. After completely swallowing everything, Seamus finally pulled off, and then kissed Harry, allowing him to taste his own essence.

"I don't taste half bad," Harry sighed, "and you were fucking terrific"

"I've had my practice, don't _you_ know, but now it's your turn," Seamus said, laying back and gripping his cock, holding the leaking member out to Harry's waiting mouth.

"Okay, so...just a savoury bit," Harry said, shaking as he moved to the dick before him; experimentally, he whipped out his tongue and licked the underside of the head before immediately pulling off.

"Not bad," said Seamus, looking up, "but you need to press more on it,"

"Like this?" Harry thrust his tongue out as hard as he could, repeating the same action; Seamus' moan affirmed his success. Reversing order, he then dipped his tongue into Seamus' slit, licking up the fluid there, before sliding down the vein to Seamus' balls. He took one into his mouth, squeezed a little too hard, but pulled off before Seamus could protest.

"Not b-baahhh-bad," Seamus managed to get out, staring in disbelief at the pleasure; Harry had begun kissing around his flat, toned stomach, while using one hand to rub the shaft and the other to grip his balls. "I think I'm close..."

"Okay," Harry shrugged, moving back down to Seamus' cock; he inhaled deeply once his mouth was around Seamus, and then followed through with the finger in the ass. He was not, however, prepared for swallowing what came; neither he nor Draco could ever come so much, and so he had to pull off halfway through and spit out some. The rest of the cum shot onto his hair, acting like gel and covering his scar.

"You are pretty good," Seamus groaned, wiping the cum off of Harry's hair and rubbing it on the sheets, "and looks like you're hard again...want another lesson?"

"Sounds terrific," Harry laughed as he lay back down, cock exposed and waiting. Seamus grabbed the cock with his right hand, and then shoved the whole member into his mouth at once. Breathing through his nose, he swirled his tongue around the shaft, sucking it like he would a lollypop, and soon enough Harry was coming again, shooting a load straight into the back of Seamus' throat. Seamus gagged a bit as he pulled off, coughed, cleared his throat, and then smiled.

Suddenly, the door opened and Ron stepped in; he slammed the door behind him, and yelled at Dean and Neville to stay back.

**To Be Continued...**


	42. Chapter 42: Confessions

**We pick up exactly where we left off, as Ron steps in...**

_Suddenly, the door opened __and Ron stepped in; he slammed the door behind him, and yelled at Dean and Neville to stay back._

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Ron exclaimed as Seamus leaped off the bed to grab his underwear, and Harry covered his wilting erection with his hand.

"Uhm, it's not what it seems..." Harry said, pulling his sheets and covers up.

"Honestly, it's just a blow job," Seamus said as he pulled on his pants.

"You two blew each other?" Ron shouted, before suddenly going down to a whisper, "you gave each other blow jobs!"

"That's all," Seamus said, hands up.

"So, what, are you like, fucking queers?"

"No, we didn't fuck...yet," Seamus said, straightening up and walking over to Ron, winking.

"Fuck you!" Ron said, before punching Seamus in the jaw, knocking him back. However, Seamus being built from time wrestling with his Irish friends, was able to rebound quickly, before landing a punch on Ron, knocking the wind out of him.

"What the hell's going on?" Harry shouted, still covered by his duvet until he grabbed a pair of jeans and put them on, "Ron, Seamus, stop!"

"No one calls me a fuckin' poof," Seamus said, fists still raised.

"And we are not fucking...we are _never_ going to fuck...no, no...fuck no!" Harry said, staring crossly over at Seamus as he ran to help Ron to his feet, "I was feeling really depressed, and Seamus made me feel better,"

"_I_ could blow you if you felt sad," Ron said between gasps, before looking defensively at Harry, "I'm joking,"

"Are you really?" Harry said, stepping back from his best friend, "We have done plenty of stuff before,"

"What? What the fuck?" Ron said, raising his fists, "what's gotten into you, Harry? It's like I don't know you anymore!"

"Oh, come on, we've gotten off together since like second year," Harry quickly responded, "and to be that comfortable with someone else's cock so much has got to mean something, eh?"

"What's going on?" Hermione asked as she suddenly burst through the door, Dean and Neville looking in curiously behind her.

"Close the door!" Seamus yelled, and she did it quickly.

"What is the problem?" Hermione said, quieting the room, "everyone's getting kind of worried."

"I'm gay," Seamus spoke up after a minute of silence, "been so since I can't remember, so deal with it; it's never going to change,"

"Seamus, that's great..." Hermione said, clapping a hand together, "but please, put on a shirt, you are still good to look at,"

Ron shot Hermione an evil glare, and she laughed nervously, "Relax, Ron,"

"Seamus was blowing Harry...and Harry ... blew Seamus," Ron quickly replied.

"Harry, is this true?"

"It is," Harry said, head sunken, pulling on a polo shirt, "listen, I was pretty sad about something Dumbledore had said to me, and Seamus was the only one here to talk with,"

"Talking by shoving his cock in your mouth," Ron grunted from the corner.

"Ron, you shut up," Hermione snapped at him, "Harry, what were you sad about?"

"Dumbledore found out about something about me...and I got scared," Harry shrugged, "but it's nothing,"

"Harry, tell them," Seamus said in a low voice.

"You've told Seamus, your _fuck_buddy, but not your best, er, uh, your mates?" Ron piped in.

"I'm in love with Draco Malfoy!" Harry said, tears forming at his eyes, "okay, you happy?"

No one spoke. A knock came from the door, presumably from either Neville or Dean, but Hermione whispered back "go away".

"Sorry, love?" Ron asked, shocked.

"Yes."

"So, are you gay too, Harry?" Hermione asked, stepping over and hugging him.

"No. Only Seamus is; I just...find myself attracted, you know, to a few guys, and most girls,"

"And yet, you are in love?" Hermione questioned, breaking the embrace slowly.

"We've been doing stuff since...the forest, at the Cup, and now...we love each other," Harry stuttered, only finishing his sentence after two minutes.

"I was giving him pointers for Malf-oh, excuse me, Draco," Seamus smirked, putting his hands on his hips, "nothing more...I like someone else"

"Who?" Ron looked uneasily at Seamus.

"A Hufflepuff," Seamus said nonchalantly, unwilling to say much more.

"There's one thing I don't understand," Hermione commented, looking around at the boys, "Draco Malfoy...you're in love with him? After all he's done?"

"Yes...there's someone behind all the stupidity we see, who's actually really nice,"

"Fuck this," Ron said, turning around and walking out of the room. He slammed the door behind him, leaving Seamus, Hermione, and Harry alone.

"I'll talk to him," Hermione reassure him, "but if you are sure, I will trust you,"

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, giving her another hug, "that means so much to me, you have no idea,"

"And we're all supportive of you," Hermione then looked at Seamus, and gave him a hug, "though you are a little too good looking for a gay boy,"

"Appreciate it," Seamus winked. He left the room, and went to talk about his orientation to Dean and Neville.

"So, Harry, have you figured out the second task yet?"

"I tell you all this and you still go on about the task?" Harry asked, befuddled.

"That's me, Harry," Hermione gave him a peck on the cheek, and went out the door; a moment later, she brought Ron back in by his shirt collar, "Apologize!"

"No,"

"Listen, Ron," Harry began, putting on his glasses.

"No, Harry...are you actually in love, and not just fucking around?" Ron asked.

"Yes, I promise you, it's true," Harry looked at Ron in the eyes.

"It's just...weird" Ron said in a quiet voice.

"I know...and it takes time to get used to it," Hermione patted Ron on the shoulder, "but so long as we are all there of him, it will all be alright in the end,"

"Okay," Ron shrugged, "Hermione, would you excuse us for a minute?"

"Sure," she said, walking out of the room.

Ron asked, winking.

"What?"

"Have I ever turned you on, or did all of our jerk offs ... were they just because you were thinking of Malfoy?"

"Well, you are really good looking," Harry conceded, "but, I'm in love with Draco,"

"I'm not in love with you!" Ron said, raising his voice, "it just...feels good when we get off,"

"I will agree with that for sure," Harry nodded, "we can still do stuff, if you feel okay about it,"

"That...might be nice..." Ron smiled, "and Seamus isn't bad either,"

"Are you gay now?" Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"No!" Ron shot back, his voice resolute, "but it does feel good for now with boys, and when I find a girl it'll definitely feel better, right?"

"Right," Harry said; he gave his best friend a really big hug, and then the two went for a late meal.

However, _with two days left, Harry started to go off food again. The only good thing about breakfast on Monday was the return of the brown owl he had sent to Sirius. _

**R/R SVP**


	43. Chapter 43: Fighting

**We are in the end of Chapter 26, just after Harry finished the second task; the starting and ending italics denote passages from the book; please enjoy!**

_It was over, Harry thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes...it was over, he had got through...he didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth..._

_Next time he was in Hogsmeade, he decided, as he walked back up to the stone steps into the castle, he was going to buy Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the year._

He was just about to go up to the Hospital Wing when a hiss from a nearby hallway attracted his attention; he looked over, and saw Draco Malfoy motion him down the hallway before turning around and walking away.

As he was the last one in the group, and he thought he wouldn't really be missed, he ducked away after Draco, chasing him down. Sure that he was alone, when he caught up with Draco he spun him around kissed him so hard Harry knocked him down. Together, on the floor, legs meshed and erections growing, all of Harry's fears throughout the past two weeks dissolved entirely. All he could think about now was the soft feel of Draco's finely cleaned clothes against his wet skin, and the way that Draco's hand was playing with Harry's hair, and the feel of Draco's body heat warming him up...

"Missed you," Draco giggled between kisses and breaths, "It's been too long,"

"Too long," said Harry, smiling back, "but I have something to tell you,"

"What?" Draco asked, eyes widening. Cautiously, he sat up, causing Harry to fall off of him, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Harry said, "but some people kind of, er, _know_ about it,"

"It?"

"I mean, us,"

"Like, _us together_?"

"Yeah,"

"Who!" Draco exclaimed, standing up straight and brushing himself off. He looked quickly around the hallway, surveying it for any signs of onlookers; there were only two portraits, both missing their human occupants, and a couple of stone statues who weren't moving.

"Listen, Dumbledore found out,"

"Dumbledore?" Draco shrieked, beginning to pace around the room, "Dumbledore?"

"Yeah, so I got upset too,"

"I thought that _you_ were the one who said he was fine with dating in the open!" Draco huffed.

"I thought I was too," Harry said, looking down at the floor, folding his hands together, "but something in me just kind of snapped when he told me that he knew,"

"At least I know that Dumbledore won't tell anyone," Draco said, fixing up his hair once more, "okay, that's not so bad, he's smarter than anyone here, much as I hate to admit it,"

"Yeah, that's what Seamus thought,"

"Whoa, what the fuck, Seamus?" Draco asked, stomping his feet, "Seamus? The Irish one?"

"Yes, the _Irish_ one," Harry said, raising his voice as he stood up, "He knows, because he was the only one to talk to, after Dumbledore found out,"

"You talked to him? About us?"

"I figured it was safe because he's..."

"He's what?"

"He's gay, so I thought he could understand, and he did"

"Fuck it, he's gay," Draco sighed, tapping his foot, "?"

"It's okay," Harry said, walking over to Draco, putting his arm around him, and pulling him in, "he's promised to keep it quiet,"

"You talked to a guy, who loves guys, about loving a guy? You could have _at least_ talked to a girl about it, 'cause I know you're never going to go after a girl,"

"Hey, I like girls too, but I like you more,"

"Well," Draco conceded, leaning in for another kiss, "so long as that's it, I guess that's fine,"

"And Hermione. And Ron."

Of all the possible reactions, Harry did not expect to be slapped; he was expecting a furious face, or a deep kiss, or for Draco to storm off, but a slap? Really?

"You're a dude!" Harry said, rubbing his sore cheek, "punch like a man!"

"I don't want to punch you," Draco said, his voice choking, tears beginning to well up.

"Then what's the matter?"

"We should have told people _together_, or at least agreed to tell people!"

"I didn't have any time! I went from Dumbledore's office, to the dorm, and then Ron stormed in when Seamus and I were, uh,"

Harry paused, and Draco refocused.

"um, talking, we were just talking," Harry finished, swallowing deeply.

"Harry!"

"Listen, it didn't mean anything, and," Harry sighed, "I did it for you only,"

"Did what for me?"

"We gave each other blow jobs, and I thought only of you the whole time,"

"Goodbye," Draco whispered, beginning a swift walk down the hallway, "have fun partying it up,"

"Wait," Harry said, outstretching a hand; however, Draco didn't turn around even the slightest bit, and Harry watched him walk away. He stayed there for a couple of minutes further, trying to collect himself, before rejoining the rest of the champions in the Hospital Wing.

He remained in a melancholy mood for the rest of the evening, until Seamus pulled him aside after celebrations.

**Next time: What Seamus did during the Second Task, and What he wants to tell Harry.**


	44. Chapter 44: Seamus

**As a note about what is to come: This is a story, as always, about Harry and Draco coming together as a couple, so don't worry...they will end up together. But, adolescence is hormonal like crazy, so some angst may exist for now; just hold out, and enjoy the story to come!**

**A/N: after reviewing the actors in the movies, I have made a change in Seamus' interests...check out the faces and tell me if you disagree!**

**With that said, we pick up exactly where we left off, with Seamus talking to Harry. Ending italics denote passage from the book.**

"Hey, Harry," Seamus said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, "why so glum?"

"I don't..." Harry said, pausing before continuing, "I don't feel l-like talking about it, okay?"

"Whoah...what happened?" Seamus asked, somehow sensing the severity of Harry's mood, "was it something with Draco?"

"Yeah," Harry said, beginning to turn around, "you!"

Seamus, though dumbstruck, followed Harry as the champion proceeded out the portrait, down a flight of stairs, before breaking into sobs in an abandoned alcove. "Harry, what did I do?"

"Fuck off," Harry said, his head turned so as to hide his tears, "I don't want to talk to you,"

"Does this have anything with me knowing about you and him?"

"I said, FUCK OFF!" Harry screamed. However, Seamus leaned on the side of the wall opposite Harry, his arms folded, staring back,

"I'm not going to go anywhere until you tell me what happened,"

"You've interfered enough, you prat," Harry shot back.

"Was it the blow job?"

"Yes,"

"Why in the fuck did you tell Draco about it?"

"How do you kn-know I did?"

"Just had a hint," Seamus winked; Harry, through heaving breaths, let out a shaky laugh, blowing his runny nose on his shirt cuff.

"I told him about Dumbledore knowing, and you and everyone else," Harry said, staring down at the carpet, "and then, when he asked why I told you..."

"You told him about the blow job," Seamus stared, shaking his head, "Harry, Harry, Harry..."

"He dumped me," Harry said, "because of you,"

"He took _that_ as infidelity?" Seamus shrugged, cocking an eyebrow, "sensitive,"

"He dumped me, and _I love him_," Harry quickly replied.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Harry, I didn't mean to ever get you in trouble – we were just having fun...you did tell him that, right?"

"No...he walked away before I could say anything,"

Seamus muted himself as he was about to retort with an insult, and instead pushed off the wall, walked over to Harry, and sat beside him, "it'll be okay,"

"No, it won't, he hates me,"

"Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't you hate me?"

"No..._I'd_ be understanding," Seamus replied, "but that's just me,"

"Yeah...you're not my boyfriend," Harry said, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Do you ever think about ... me ..." Seamus questioned, his voice shaky and uneven, "like that?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted nonchalantly, "never thought of any boys except for Draco really,"

"Oh,"

"You're a nice enough guy," Harry said, using his right hand to pat Seamus on the back, "pretty hot, and when you are not trying to break people up, you're pretty sweet,"

"Th-tha-a-aanks, uh," Seamus quivered at Harry's touch.

"What'd you think of the Second Task?" Harry abruptly changed subject, feeling slightly better about his predicament.

"To be completely honest, I didn't really get to see it,"

"But...you came down to the field; I saw you in the stands!"

"Okay, well, I was _at_ the Task...but I ran into someone," Seamus' voice began to shake.

"Oh yeah, who?"

"Ernie MacMillan,"

"The prat who's walking around with one of those badges? The know it all?" Harry fumed slightly.

"Yeah, him,"

"Anyways..."

"Anyways," Seamus took in a deep breath, "I caught him...under the stands..._touching himself_!"

"What?"

"Yeah...he claimed that Fleur got him rock hard and he had to deal, but turned out otherwise,"

"Tell me all of it," Harry snapped his head over to pay full attention to Seamus.

* * *

Seamus had just seen the boys jump into the lake, and seeing them practically naked and exposed had gotten something into him...something he needed to deal with. Everyone was cheering and having such a good time, so he snuck down the stairs and then under the beachers; it was kind of dark, with only a bit of sun streaming through the exposed side, and the sounds of everyone stomping their feet above was not all too conducive to what he was trying to do.

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, expecting a need for a quickie and not much more; he was just about to start stroking when a moan caused him to turn around. Over in the corner, with his eyes shut and his body practically naked, sat Ernie MacMillan, wanking. Seamus only got harder as he fully whisked off his pants, pulled his robe off, and crept over to Ernie.

Ernie began to moan later, mumbling "cumming..." to himself, when Seamus suddenly yelled, "Surprise!"

Having just been at the threshold of orgasm, Ernie opened his eyes in surprise and suddenly released, shooting a white ribbon of cum into Seamus' hair.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're a shooter," Seamus said, scootching over to the boy as Ernie tried to cover himself and retreat further into his corner.

"Get away from here, Gryffindor," Ernie mumbled; his wand and clothes were just out of reach, so he simply hoped Seamus would just go away.

"Come on, I do have a name," Seamus smiled, "and if you're not nice to me right now, maybe the whole school would like to know about you creaming yourself to...oh, I don't know, Potter?"

"No..." Ernie looked horrified, "I saw...Fleur...in a bathing suit..."

"You don't lie very well...I can tell this hasn't softened you at all,"

"Fine, it was Potter," Ernie said, "but you can't tell anyone,"

"What's in it for me?"

"A blowjob?" Ernie asked, eyes widening.

"You're cute..." Seamus chuckled, "you're on,"

* * *

"No way!" Harry exclaimed, "he blew you, right there, under the whole school?"

"Yeah, and he definitely had practice," Seamus commented folding his arms.

"But...didn't you like Justin?"

"Not really anymore...he's not that good looking anymore; Ernie is way hotter, and on my level,"

"Okay...well, whatever makes you happy," Harry conceded.

"Anyways, after he finished me off, and then I gave him head, we...kind of...thought we should get together for something," Seamus blushed deeply.

"Aw, cute," Harry snickered, teasingly, "you've got a boyfriend,"

"Not really...just a...fuck buddy?"

"You need to fuck in order to have a fuck buddy," Harry pointed out.

"Well, we're not there yet, but soon, I think,"

"Now that you're set, I guess I need to get back on track with Draco," Harry said, returning to a melancholy mood.

"Not yet you don't," Seamus interrupted.

"Huh?"

"Listen, he's invited you, Ron, and me to play poker some night next week...he says he wants to make amends for being such a douche about the tournament,"

Harry, though a little suspicious, shrugged his shoulder, "sounds like it could be...I don't know, fun?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought, so you want to come?"

"Sure,"

The two then rose up, and walked back to the Gryffindor Tower. After a quick bit of celebrations, Harry plunged into a dreamless sleep.

_One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everyone was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake, which meant that for once Ron was getting to share Harry's limelight._

**Please R/R!**


	45. Chapter 45: A Poker Game

**A/N: if you notice that I am using passive participles, it is because I just finished a huge Latin assignment, translating Caesar's Civil Wars...and he **_**loves**_** his passive participles!**

_Harry threw his books and ingredients back into his bag, and left at top speed to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just witnessed._

Once they were sufficiently caught up, Harry pulled Ron aside, "still on for tonight?"

"Hell's yeah," Ron grinned, "can't wait,"

"What are you two talking about?" asked Hermione, earnestly turning around and staring at them. She definitely seemed adamant to know, "is it about that stupid drivel from Skeeter?"

"No, no," Ron said, blushing.

"It's alright, nothing to worry about," Harry interceded, "it's about Draco, and I just wanted a guy's opinion,"

"You know, I can help you with your 'stuff', Harry," Hermione burst into his comfort bubble, "just because I don't have a dick does not mean that I am not able to help my gay friend,"

"Hey, I'm _not_ gay!" Harry muttered, taking a step back, "I like girls too,"

"Alright," Hermione winked. She spun around, and with a wave of her hand, in a girlish tone added, "I'm off to the library,"

"Good riddance," Ron joked.

"So, uh, Ron," Harry stammered, "about tonight,"

"Uh huh?" Ron nodded slowly.

"Well, you known...Seamus, Ernie, and I...well, we're all...uh, you know, of the variety of...well, you understand, of...er...we all like boys to some degree,"

"And that water is wet..." Ron added, "I know that too,"

"Shut up," Harry snickered, "point is, there's probably going to be something involving...well, uh, stuff that is, like, gay-_ish_,"

"That's fine by me...I've held your cock plenty of times before,"

"Okay...I just don't know tonight's limits and all,"

"Strip and jerk sounds easy enough," Ron shrugged.

"Well, I've blown Seamus, he's blown Ernie and me, Ernie's blown him, and not to mention that Seamus has fucked before..." Harry was still slightly quivering, "and I don't want you to get uncomfortable,"

"Can I be honest?" Ron asked.

"Always,"

"Back, uh, when you taught me about, uh,"

"Masturbation?" Harry immediately supplied. For some reason, he felt like using the word – maybe he was just horny. Well, he was, but...

"Yeah, that's it," Ron blushed again, this time even deeper, "well, when we went into the showers, if you had wanted, or if I'd had a bit more courage, or –"

Harry began to get hard.

"If things had gone in a way, I would have offered to try...a blow job,"

"What?" Harry would not have guessed. Though he had hinted at that, back when Ron walked in on him and Seamus, he was merely taunting Ron.

"Well, let's face it, whenever we're naked together, we're both hard,"

"So..."

"I don't like like you, though...it's just that I find you attractive...well, guys, I find attractive. Remember when I walked in on you? It's true – guys sort of turn me on. Could be fun, I know it will feel good, and I do need to make it up to Seamus for punching him."

"Wow...that's a lot to take in at once,"

"Meh," Ron shrugged, "I think it runs in the family...I know Charlie's in the habit of liking guys, and Fred and George still wank together...a lot,"

A momentary whisper of imagination subsumed Harry as he contemplated the naked, writhing, identical bodies of Fred and George, passionately –

"You alright?" Ron gave him a soft punch, as Harry had drifted off.

"Yeah, fine, uh, cool," Harry was now really looking forward to tonight.

Harry wished he'd known of this room sooner...he, Hermione, and Ron could have hatched or carried out their plots and devices over the years so well up here!

"It's awesome," Ron managed to get out.

"Yeah," Ernie smirked proudly. They had climbed a tall tower adjacent to the Great Hall, passed through a statue which demanded some saliva from Ernie, had gone up twelve flights, and now stood in a huge recreational room. There was a large fireplace, around which were nice and plush couches, some desks beside massive bookshelves (with enough books to give Hermione a tiny orgasm), chairs, tables, and a cupboard of food.

"Welcome to the Hufflepuff devoted study room – only for Hufflepuffs, so, sorry, guys. Basically, it's here for the benefit of hard work at late hours, when our common room is busy. I have booked it for all night, so it is impossible for us to get any visitors,"

"You...are...gorgeous..." Seamus smiled, giving Ernie a peck on the cheek before wandering around the room. Harry looked back to see Ernie flush slightly, holding the spot kissed with his palm.

"So...poker?" Harry suggested, once everyone had had his fill.

"We all know what kind of poker," Ron began, wanting to ensure he could fit in with the group all night.

"Yes, Ron," Seamus winked, "but cards and buterbeer are vital,"

"Oh, shit," Harry smacked his head, "I forgot to bring the beer!"

"Harry!" Ernie tisked.

"Well, I was going to order some, but..."

"So you don't even have any back in the room?" Seamus asked.

"No," Harry looked at his own feet."

"Well, Hufflepuffs may like their toil and shit," Ernie began to brag, "but we certainly are able to party afterwards...we have firewhiskey!"

"Yeah, yeah, let's play!" Harry motioned towards a table with cards. The other boys soon joined him, and all removed their shoes as an ante.

"Right, boys," Ernie began as he shuffled the deck vigourously, "we want tonight to last, so the winner chooses one person only to remove a piece of clothing...not everyone who loses,"

"I've only ever played it the other way...but it's kind of the same," Harry shrugged,

"With whom?" Ernie looked at him, cocking an eyebrow.

"Uh, promise to keep a secret?"

"If you don't tell anyone I like boys, sure," Ernie began to get hard.

"Draco Malfoy...we've been in an on-off relationship...and one night we played strip poker in order to get naked,"

"Wow...lucky..." Ernie whistled, "one of the hottest boys in school, and you've got him,"

"Sometimes," Harry cast his eyes down...much fun as this was going to be, he would much rather have spent a night alone with Draco...even just talking would have been better. However, he knew that he had screwed up, and that after tonight he would have to try and make amends.

"Hey, Ernie, your boy's right here," Seamus said, adding a slight seductive lisp to his voice.

"Oh, fuck you are indeed," Ernie smiled.

Ron was sort of lost in all this, so gave a cough and then Ernie continued, "Right, so, let's get the record straight, then,"

"Why do we need a record for tonight?" Ron asked, squirming a bit, "I don't want people to know what we're doing,"

"No, no, nothing serious," Ernie chuckled, dealing the cards, "I mean, I am mostly gay...there have only been three recorded girls who I can get off to...Hannah, Fleur from the tournament, and...uh, someone else,"

"Come on man, who?" asked Seamus, using shot glasses he'd found to dole out a round of firewhiskey.

"If you promise not to hit me, I will," Ernie said sheepishly; when everyone else nodded, "Hermione,"

"My best friend, Hermione Granger?" Ron asked, slightly raising his voice.

"Hey, you promised," with that, Ron grunted, and Ernie added, "Besides, I'm going for a cock-laden mate at the moment,"

Harry, having gone through his shot, burst out laughing, "who the _fuck_ calls their boy-toy a 'cock-laden mate'?"

"Well, Seamus is now a mate of mine, and boy has he a cock,"

"Yeah, he does," Harry added.

"Anyways," Ron prompted,

"Yeah, anyways," Ernie continued, having won the first hand and forcing Harry's socks off, "what are you, Harry?"

"Looks like, so far, that I like almost all girls – well, if they are attractive – and some guys. Probably seventy-five percent women, twenty-five for guys," Harry counted, taking his turn to deal, "But guys...when just right...boner every fucking time,"

"So..._any_ guy naked gets you hard?" Seamus licked his lips,

"Well, except for Cedric...take off that vest, Ernie,"

"Woah...what did you and Cedric do?" Ron pressed, pouring the second round of firewhiskey.

"He hinted to take the bath, and...well, I interrupted him going down on someone, so he made me get off with him,"

"Horny fucker... but I think he's really cute," Seamus quipped, "bye bye Ron's pants!"

"Oh, not at all...I couldn't even get hard! He's all pale, and he's got really uncared for hair all over his stomach and cock..."

Ernie made a gagging noise, "anyone for round three?" he asked afterwards; they all nodded.

"Anyways, I like boys and boys _alone_...cocks will be my life until my life is over," Seamus grinned, purposely swishing his tongue around the now drained shot glass.

"Uh huh," Ron nodded, quietly shuffling during his turn at the cards, then dealing. He felt that everyone else was having more fun than he was, and needed a bit more alcohol for fun.

"Well, we haven't heard from Ron!" Harry suddenly interjected, fuelled with a bit of bravado, his cheeks flushed, his cock hardened, and his mind curious.

"Uh, first, off with the socks, Seamus,"

Everyone booed – "socks go last," Ernie commented as Seamus did as he was told.

"So, Ron?"

"Well, girls are great," Ron stammered, "but fuck it, guys can just be so _hot_ sometimes...I want to end up with a girl, but – "

He froze with silence, unaware of whether or not he should speak his mind; the alcohol said yes.

"But what?" Ernie snickered behind his cards, dealing out the last cards.

"Boys are sluts," Ron added a bit of a drunken slur to his words, just in case, "I mean, girls take _so_ much work to do anything...dates and dates for just a simple kiss! Harry and I...I'm curious, he's horny, and bang, we're wanking together, and then each other! Boys are simple...and I know what to do with a boy, cause I have a dick myself! Girls...what the fuck?"

The three other boys raised their shot glasses as one, laughing as they did it, and agreed.

"That's why I love 'im," Seamus said. He got up, walked over to Ernie's seat, and then, with one hand around the back of his head, kissed him deeply. As they broke apart, the tiniest string of saliva connected them, the light dancing up and down it, before Seamus walked back to his seat, "easy!"

"Well, that's all nice, but now I'd like to see your pants off, Seamus," Ron commented, having won the hand.

"As you will," Seamus smiled. He stood up, unfastened his belt, and casually rolled them down his slim hips. As the jeans revealed his boxers, his erection suddenly sprung forwards, trapped and hidden only by the thin fabric of his underwear.

"Oh my," Ernie snickered, "can't wait to see that,"

"Soon," Seamus winked, aiming more at Harry than anyone else, though.

Harry dealt then, quickly, but somehow Ron won again. He pondered for a moment, and then demanded Ernie's shirt off. Ernie did so willingly, pulling the dress shirt clean off, revealing the toned chest beneath. Pale though he was, given that it was winter, there was certain beauty to him that Ron could not help but be enraptured by.

Three more deals and another round of firewhiskey rid Seamus of his sweater and shirt, and Harry of his pants. Ron finally lost another piece of clothing on the fourth round, this time his jacket, and then he ordered Harry's shirt off.

"How in the fuck are you doing so good, Ron?" Ernie asked, cocking an eyebrow. He had only his pants and socks let – little did anyone know that today, Ernie had chosen to go commando.

"Beginner's luck, I suppose," Ron winked, before throwing down his full house. "Ha!"

"Hold on," Seamus stopped him, "four of a kind, fucker!"

"Shit," Ron commented quietly, and then removed his shirt.

He felt kind of shy then, because as he looked around, he saw that all of the other boys were much fitter than he. Harry had some small biceps, and his pecs were impeccable...he was very lithe, and muscle from Quidditch definitely shone through. Seamus, though very svelte, was well toned from the boxing he passed his summers with; Ernie the bookworm was, as the conversation had earlier revealed, a swimmer and a runner, and so had the body of a perfect Ganymede. Ron had played games with his brothers, but was not left really built.

Seamus wolf-whistled, provoking a chuckle from the other boys, "nice boy,"

"Thanks," Ron stuttered. The next deal was the most interesting one, as it began the true nudity. Harry had won the hand, and, being between Ernie and Seamus at the table, decided that he would like to see the fuss about Ernie...he wanted to see the boy's cock, even if only through his boxers.

"Ernie, throw off the pants,"

"K," Ernie, following Seamus' earlier example, stood up, undid the button, and unzipped his jeans – the boys could see his erection, sort of shoved down one leg of the jeans, and then also noticed that there was no underlying fabric. The pants were quickly down, and standing at a healthy five and a half inches stood Ernie's cock, precum just dripping from the tip, before all of the boys. He had shaved the day earlier, and his skin was smooth and without blemish. He slid a hand down his slim stomach, over the ghost a six-pack, and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, pulling once.

"What's up with your dick?" Ron interjected.

"Foreskin," Ernie explained, pulling on it to demonstrate his versatility, "you had it once...before your parents cruelly removed it from you,"

"What?" Ron was baffled, but certainly horny.

"It's a long story, I'll explain later," Harry looked over at Ron, who then nodded. Ernie resumed his seat, intermittently wanking and playing cards.

"This is getting too hot..." Seamus said, winning the next hand and ordering Ron to remove his underwear. Cooly, Ron did so, and allowed the boys a glimpse of the throbbing manhood waiting for action. He quickly sat down though, once again self-conscious.

"Come on Ron, show off that beauty," Ernie requested, moving both his hands down below the table line; Harry, however, could fully see what he was doing, watching him fondle his balls whilst a finger probed elsewhere.

"Not til later...we still have cards to play," Ron said, eyes desperately looking away from any of the boys, onto anything else available in the room.

"You know what, I think we're done," Seamus abruptly shoved his chair away, threw his cards down on the table, and tore off his boxers. He chucked them to Ernie, who caught them with his face, and then Seamus ambled over, erection bouncing all the way. Harry and Ron watched, entranced, as Seamus leaped onto Ernie's bare lap, lining their cocks up as he sat down, and then kissed his boyfriend once again. Ernie's hands snuck around to Seamus' taut back, feeling up and down the smooth curves, before his fingers began massaging his arse.

"Hey, boys," Harry replied, annoyed that he was the only one left with underwear, "wait to do that later, please,"

"But...we need some help," Ernie giggled between kisses, "both our hands are busy...would you mind lending us your hands on our cocks?"

Harry had never been harder in his life, and he could not possibly resist. He practically leaped from the chair, knocking the table around a bit, and then moved over to the two boys. It took a bit of manoeuvring to position himself between the two writhing boys, but when he finally was able to do so, he wrapped his right hand around the two cocks, lining them up. Both boys instantaneously moaned loudly, and Seamus thrust up. Precum was leaking down both shafts, especially now that Ernie had two fingers spreading around up Seamus' –

"Cumming!" Ernie shrieked, his voice quite high, as he spurt forth his cum, splashing high up onto Seamus' chest, between the two rosy pink nipples of his heaving chest. His whole body was quivering, and with the magic of Harry's fingers, Seamus quickly followed. Ribbons of pure white liquid ejaculated onto Ernie's belly, coating it and pooling around his belly button, some also dripping down Harry's hands.

"That...was...fucking...BRILLIANT!" Seamus exclaimed, collapsing down onto his lover.

"Uh, guys," Harry began, "my hand's caught between you two..."

"Oh, sorry mate," Ernie replied, sucking in his gut for a moment so that Harry could drag out his seed coated hand. He rubbed the semen onto the only clothing available, his underwear, and then poked Seamus in the ribs, "come on!"

"I think that the cards are done, mate,"

"But...you've all got socks, and I've got boxers!"

"Hey, socks are really sexy!" Ernie replied, kissing Seamus once again.

"Tell you what," Seamus began, reluctantly pushing himself up and off of Ernie. He then grabbed his white undershirt and wiped the cum off his body, doing then the same to his boy, "seeing as you and Ron have yet to get off,"

"I'm not doing that!" Ron suddenly recoiled, his eye twitching slightly

"Yeah, I know," Harry nodded

"No, I was going to suggest we play a game called limp biscuit,"

"Huh?" Harry and Ron both asked.

"Well, I think it will give you an easy start, seeing as how both Ernie and I have already enjoyed one cum,"

"No, no, I mean, what is it?" Harry continued.

"Oh, ha ha,"

Seamus motioned all of the boys into a circle formation. Once they were set, he then ran over to the cupboards, rifled through them for a moment, and then brought forth a large, round tea biscuit. "Okay, in this game, we must all get off and cum on this biscuit."

"Basically, masturbation?" Ron asked, "doesn't sound all too fun,"

"Here's the thing, though," Ernie licked his lips, "the very last person to cum has to eat it,"

"EW!" Harry exclaimed.

"Sounds intriguing," Ron, surprisingly, commented.

"It's basically a race, with...yummy or yucky consequences," Seamus added, "anyone game?"

"I am," Ernie and Ron both supplied; unwittingly, Harry eventually nodded.

"Alrighty, then, first thing is first, Harry, let's see you drop those boxers," Seamus said, reaching a hand over and hooking it in the elastic of Harry's boxers. The feeling of Seamus' hand so close to Harry's..._private_ area caused his erection to begin to leak, and the stain was visible to all. Without further ado, Harry pulled it off, allowing his cock to meet with the cool air around him.

Harry took his cock in hand, finding it rather liberating to touch himself before the three boys – with Seamus and Ron, he felt comfortable, and before Ernie, he felt totally aroused.

"Hey, I didn't say go!" Ernie snapped playfully, "Hands on cocks...one...two...three...GO!"

At once, all the boys began, gripping their cocks as quickly as possible and thrusting. Harry, feeling kinky, used his left hand to slide up and down his chest, teasing each nipple teasingly, before feeling down the rungs of his ribs, and then over his clean stomach. He then spaced his feet out just a bit further, arched his back slightly, thrusting his midsection forwards a bit more, and then let out a moan of pleasure. Offering his cock for everyone to see was certainly arousing, and he knew it wouldn't take much longer.

Seamus and Ernie were working off of each other for this round, sizing up one another's body, and at odd points, kissing. Ron, having never been so aroused before, was looking at everyone, admiring their cocks, envying their bodies, the way that Seamus moaned softly whenever he sent a finger just beneath his balls, how Ernie liked to exhale slowly and inhale quickly, and that as Harry pulled at a nipple, his pelvis thrust forwards.

For some reason, Harry's eyes suddenly snapped to Ernie's cock, the way that he was casually rolling his foreskin up and down the tip of his cock, coating the entirety in his leftover cum. This immediately made him think of Draco, of his cock, of the time they enjoyed together, of what he was missing now...and then he remembered them in Draco's room, just kissing. The eroticism of that moment sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back. He took one step forward, placed his cock down on top of the biscuit, and came all over it, drenching it in an hour's build up of come; some of it dribbled off onto Seamus' hand, and then Harry stepped back.

Still hard, he surveyed the others, and watched just as Seamus' moans heightened in pitch, and then suddenly he came for the second time that night, his semen mixing with Harry's on the biscuit. The orgasm lasted at least thirty seconds, and when he was done, Seamus moved closer to his lover, rubbing his cock up and down the other boy's leg. At the same time, he also began sucking on his neck, sure to leave at least one hickey as a sign of the night's activity.

For some reason, Ron was still not getting off, and not wanting him to lose, Harry took drastic measures. He went behind his best friend, pressed his chest into Ron's back, and angled his shaft between Ron's legs, the very tip just beginning to poke Ron's balls. One arm reached around the other boy, rubbing up and down his heaving stomach, a finger flicking around his navel. With the other hand, he grabbed at Ron's balls, massaging each one individually. Immediately, Ron leaped forwards, feeling the cock between his legs slowly leaving him, and he came all over the biscuit, easily having the largest load of the entire night. Ernie saw this, and then came immediately after.

"Ha!" Harry exclaimed pointing at the biscuit, having detached himself from Ron, "Ernie loses!"

"With pleasure," Ernie exclaimed. He brought it to his mouth, and with a timid sensibility he began to lap up the mixtures of seed, before shoving the biscuit in his mouth. It took a minute to swallow, but he eventually managed to. Somehow, after cumming twice, both he and Seamus were fully hard, and so began yet another makeout session. They seemed utterly unawares of Harry and Ron, and instead continued, pushing one another onto a couch, writhing in perfect unison, lining their bodies together.

"Well, this is kind of awkward," Ron said, his cock still completely erect, drops of cum leaking out and splashing on the carpet.

"Yeah..." Harry rubbed his arm sheepishly, "it's not fair – they've gotten off twice, going on three, and we only got to do it once,"

"Douches," Ron commented, folding his arm. He turned 90 degrees so that he was facing his best mate, both hard, staring at each other.

Perhaps it was because he was depressed, unable to do anything with Draco, or it could have been his erection, or the alcohol, or all three, but for some reason, Harry suddenly offered up, "want me to blow you?"

"That sounds...hot," Ron smiled. He grabbed Harry's hand, and led him over to one of the plush leather couches. He sat down on it, and gripped his cock, pointing the long beast at Harry. Harry kneeled down on the floor, and then lunged over Ron's waiting body. They kissed for a moment, before Harry broke apart and began laying kisses down Ron's sweaty body, down to the base of his cock.

He engulfed Ron's cock in the warm, beautiful wetness of his very eager mouth, wrapping his lips tightly around the shaft. He bobbed his head up and down, his tongue flitting around and inside the little slit, sucking up the slowly dripping precum collected there. Ron moaned loudly, followed by the sounds of Seamus moaning, "three...fingers..."

Using Seamus' training, Harry then pulled off of the cock, and whisked down to Ron's balls, sucking the left, then the right one, into his mouth. With his hands he massaged Ron's firm cheeks, slowly making his way to the cleft of his arse. He sensed that Ron was close, and so then quickly retook Ron's cock into his mouth. With the middle finger of his right hand, he entered Ron, and the red head came instantly, throwing his head back and shouting loudly as wave after wave of his orgasm flooded his body. His cock throbbed with each blast of hot come that Harry sucked from his balls, thrusting forwards as hard as he could possibly go.

"That...was...fucking...terrific...mate" Ron had to stagger his words between breaths, breathing so heavily,

"Maybe," Harry croaked; his voice had grown hoarse, perhaps from the sheer length he had fit into his mouth.

"Your turn...here, get, up on the couch," Ron said, patting the cushion beside him. The two then stood up, and looked to see Ernie thrusting into Seamus; both were suddenly really embarrassed to be seeing such an intimate sight, but their horniness overtook them.

Ron wasn't too great in administering a blow job – he took far too much time on the head alone of Harry's cock, and his hands were being used to hold down Harry's body, and not touch anywhere else. Nevertheless, Harry still eventually came, but it wasn't very satisfying...it was, in fact, nowhere near as satisfying as when Draco had brought him off. After Harry coated Ron's mouth in seed, he sat back up on the couch, and then was asleep in a minute. Harry, however, now overtaken by a great sorrow of missing Draco, was wide awake. He stood up, gazing at the snoozing Ron, and then looking over at the two lovers – somehow, they had both fallen asleep, and yet Ernie was still semi-hard and still inside of Seamus. Amazed and envious of their love, Harry threw on his clothes and left, walking back to the Common Room.

Once inside, he sat himself down beside the fire, and the tears began.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice came from a nearby table – he had thought the place empty, but was obviously now wrong.

"Your offer to help still good?" Harry asked, trying to compose himself,

"Of course, what do you want to talk about?" Hermione asked, moving herself beside the fire as well.


	46. Chapter 46: Perspectives

**A/N: A good bit of background music for this is Chopin's Etude No. 3 in E, "Tristesse" (on piano only)**

**We pick up right where we left off...**

"So, where were you?" Hermione asked, crossing her legs and folding her hands atop them.

"Well, you know when I told you that I was, er, was..."

"Bisexual?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, "yeah, then; do you remember what Ron saw that made me _have_ to tell him?"

"Yes," Hermione shook her head, "wasn't it that you and Seamus were..._fellating_ one another?"

"Well...yeah," Harry blushed, "it was just to cheer me up, and I thought it would make me better for Draco when I got my turn to blow him!"

"You are a very weird boy," Hermione leaned back into the chair, now tenting her fingers, "you've found the correct end for love, but you've gone entirely in the wrong direction,"

"Who the what now? Hermione, you _know_ I don't understand you when you just talk smart like that," Harry exhaled, provoking a hint of laughter in his voice. He smiled weakly as Hermione pulled a mock-hurt face.

"What is love?"

"Oh, fuck, you really expect me to know this?"

"Well, if you are, as you said, _in_ love, surely you should know what it is, right?" Hermione suggested.

"Yeah, okay...uhm," Harry pondered for a moment, "being in love is a feeling, I guess? I mean, I love Draco because...he's a really good guy, deep down, and we're both...physically inclined towards each other, and...I guess being in love means having an attraction to someone?"

"Maybe...well, I guess that's part of it," Hermione sighed, "but what does this attraction make you do?"

"Get hard?"

Hermione slapped him lightly across the face, murmuring "vulgar".

"Well, it's true,"

"Is that _all_?"

"No, I get a nice feeling inside, like I just want to spend time with this guy, to know him, to do stuff for him, do stuff _with_ him,"

"Okay, that's better," Hermione nodded, giving Harry a warm smile, "so, loving someone, or even something, means that you want to be with them, and you want a communion?"

"Sounds good, I guess,"

"And, if I can ask a bit more,"

"Shoot...I'm actually feeling better now, Hermione, thanks,"

"You're welcome," Hermione smiled.

The fire crackled, spitting up a few sparks into the air before simmering down once more. A sliver of moonlight, shining through the gothic windows, momentarily caught his eye, illuminating the red letters of Hermione's book: _Dante's Purgatorio_; _is she getting all this from Dante?_ Then, Harry remembered that Draco had said that one of Dante's works was his favourite book – he suddenly became far more interested in the conversation.

"Continue, please," Harry added, following a small cough.

"You said you were giving Seamus fellatio because you wanted to give Draco the best fellatio possible, right?"

"Only you can talk with dirty words and not flinch," Harry snickered, "but, yeah, I wanted to be the best I could for Draco,"

"Would you do it for someone you're not in love with?"

"Not really...I mean, if someone just came up to me and wanted to blow and be blown, I'd only really care about my side..."

"So, then, love is a desire to be worthy of the beloved, right?"

"Say that in English, please?"

"I love knowledge, as you well know," Hermione began.

Harry nodded.

"So, in order to be worthy of knowledge, I have to want to know things, and to be smart enough – in other words, _worthy_ – so that I can get knowledge. If I want to know what a book says, I have to be able to read, and willing to read it...I want to be worthy of that which I love."

"Okay...so, being in love with Draco means that I want to make myself worthy of having him,"

"And, of being loved by him," Hermione added.

"Huh,"

"Yes, and that's why you practiced with Seamus...you wanted to be good enough for your true love, right?" Hermione further pointed out.

"Exactly,"

"But, you were so stupid about how you went about it,"

"Why?"

"Because, you missed what being worthy of Draco _actually _means,"

"Which is..."

"Discovering each other's pleasures...together. I mean, if he loves you, he also wants to be as good as possible, but the only way to discover this is through being together, right?"

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I think Draco and I are finished,"

"What?" Hermione asked, shock tinting her voice.

"Well, when I told him about what I did with Seamus...he thought I cheated on him, and I guess I did, now, thinking about it, and he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore," Harry felt a tear crawl down his cheek, "and, now with all that you've just said...I'm not worthy of him anymore! And if I'm not worthy of him anymore, then we can't be in love, and then I'm alone, and I don't want to be, and I miss him, and..."

Harry was now hyperventilating, tears flowing more readily, as the sheer monumental sadness of the breakup fully overtook him.

"Harry, Harry," Hermione lowered her voice, rising from her seat, leaning down and then hugging her best friend, "you're being silly,"

"No, I'm not!" Harry continued, "and when he saw Skeeter's article...it looks like I'm cheating on him with you too!"

"But you're not! Well, not with me at least. What you did with Seamus, that's a different story all together," Hermione hugged him again, "but you still want to be with him, right?"

"Yes!"

"So, then, you _are_ in love, and you just have to prove yourself to Draco that you are worthy of his love! Make it up to him, and _know that you were wrong_, and do better from this; you can't change what you've done, but you can change what you will do."

"But I don't see how," Harry's breathing finally began to slow, but the tears increased.

"Talk to him, be there for him...Harry, if he loves _you_, he will find a way to take _you_ back," Hermione began rubbing his back, "and if you love him, you will be together,"

"You sure?"

"Positive,"

"Okay," Harry said, with calm breath. He brushed away his tears, and Hermione resumed her previous seat.

"Where's Ron?" she asked.

"Oh, partying with Seamus and Ernie,"

"Ernie? That prat?"

"It's a long story...I'm sure he'll be glad to tell you when he gets back,"

"Okay...I'm going back to work," Hermione said, rising. She patted Harry on the knee, whispered, "it'll be alright," and then walked away.

Harry sat there for several more minutes before groggily ascending the stairs to his bed. He plopped down, tired mentally and physically, emotionally and sexually. However, two things were clear in his mind: he needed to be faithful to Draco, and he needed to get Draco back.

**A/N: We are stepping a bit backwards in time, to just after the two broke up, following Draco**.

Draco wandered the castle aimlessly for an hour after he left Harry, not quite sure what to do with himself...one minute, they had been making out, holding each other after being apart for so long, and life was quite perfect, and the next, Harry was a cheating bastard too horny to give a damn about Draco. What the fuck kind of excuse was 'I was thinking of you the whole time', anyways?

Eventually, after punching a few portraits (one of whom summoned a statue to chase Draco away), and breaking into tears a couple of times, Draco finally summoned the courage to go to the Common Room once again. The place was unusually empty – presumably, everyone was at dinner; however, there was one breathing soul there: an often forgotten member of the Slytherin House, Theodore Nott, who was silently reading a tattered copy of Machiavelli's _The Prince_.

"What're you doing, Nott?" Draco drawled, really wishing the other boy was elsewhere right now.

"Reading, Draco, and I believe last names are only for those out of Slytherin," Theodore replied cooly, giving Draco a bemused smile, "and it is not wise for a prince to alienate his subjects"

"Fuck you," Draco snickered, walking closer to the other boy; though they were in the same year, he had never bothered to get to know this fellow Slytherin, because the other boy simply never made himself noteworthy. He was always in a corner somewhere, reading a book or writing assignments.

"Fuck yourself, I'm perfectly sated at the moment," Theodore turned his gaze back to his book.

"What are you going on about?"

"The subtle art of masturbation, of course," Theodore's voice remained perfectly monotone, "fucking oneself, in your terms,"

"You do know that _fuck you_ means piss off, right?" Draco assumed the chair right next to where Theodore was sitting, "you git,"

"Of course," the brown-haired boy responded, "but I enjoy flustering you,"

"Whatever for?"

"You are far cuter that way," Theodore sealed his book, tossing it onto the table.

"E-excuse, uh, me, what?"

"You heard me, I think,"

"Yeah, but I don't understand why..."

"Because I think you're cute," Theodore replied, shrugging his shoulders, "and that's the point,"

"You're not a very good...pureblood...Slytherin..." Draco said, defending himself the only way he knew how.

"Hey," Theodore straightened up before leaning nearer to Draco, "I'm not bedding a Gryffindor,"

"How...how did you...know?"

"Please...Harry is exceptionally gorgeous, no matter his house, and he smells a particular way...and I've smelt that on you more than once...that, and you intercepted my bath time earlier, embracing him,"

"Fuck, you're good,"

"Thanks for finally noticing, Draco,"

Draco flushed red, "how long ha-have you been, er, noticing me?"

"You're pretty hard to miss, being all flesh and blood, breathing,"

"Stop fucking around...what do you want?" Draco suddenly interjected, uncomfortable being on the defensive.

"Perhaps, some of what Harry's been having?" Theodore slid a hand over, allowing it to come to rest on Draco's knee, massaging him gently.

"But...but..."

"The task is just over, and you're not with him...am I wrong, or has something happened so as to deprive you of him?"

"Well...he...did something with someone else,"

"So, he cheated?"

"Yes."

Draco smacked himself mentally...how had he never seen this_ available _boy until now? Though slightly wiry and tall, Theodore was slim and slender, with a carved face and very...sexy dirty blonde hair tossed on his head. His deep blue eyes peered beyond Draco's veneer of toughness, past the years of Lucius' trainings, down to the lost little boy currently missing Harry...or, at least, how good he felt with Harry.

"Measure for measure?" Theodore asked, cocking his head to the side.

Draco couldn't fully explain his actions, but he knew that something told him that it was alright; the two, making sure no one was around, stood up from their chairs and walked to Draco's private room.

**Okay...so, here's what will happen: the next chapter will encompass the WHOLE Theodore side-plot, followed by a development with Harry and Draco.**

**Please R/R!**


	47. Chapter 47: Theodore

**Right where we left off...**

The moment the two were in Draco's room with the door closed, Theodore grabbed Draco's cloak and pulled the boy in tightly for a kiss. Draco, having become so used to the feel of Harry's lips, found this to be a little strange at first, but as they continued, the weirdness disappeared and lust took full hold. He began to get hard, and felt a sizeable lump coming from the other boy against his thigh.

"You...are..." Draco gasped between kisses, "a fuckin...amazing kisser,"

"Thanks," Theo smirked, using the moment to wrap his arms around Draco and slide his hands down Draco's back, "you're alright too,"

It was odd, at this point, that Draco remained silent and did not retort – had he been with Harry, or been with anyone else in a different situation, his temper would have flustered him, and he would shout down with profanities his mocker – but not know. Something was different about Theodore, and it was something that allowed Draco to take down his defences, no matter how counter-intuitive it was to do so, no matter how weird it felt. Draco smiled into the kiss only further, and this turned Theodore to think of lustier things...

"You...and...Potter ever...uh..." he began

"Ever what?" Draco asked, breaking the embrace suddenly and shoving Theo down onto the bed. "Ever _what_, Theodore?"

"Ever fucked?"

"Nope...almost everything but, though,"

"Really? I would've figured Potter to be ready to get his rocks off from a good screw by at least fourth year," Theodore shrugged.

"Well, we haven't...didn't," Draco corrected himself as he began removing his robes.

Theo quickly unbuttoned his shirt, yanked off his tie, and got a start on his belt – he was wasting absolutely no time at all, something Draco appreciated. Oh, and he also appreciated a nice set of..._oh my goodness...is that a six-pack?_ _Harry's lean, and Theo's...ripped..._

"Holy fuck, Theo, where have you been working out?"

"Wherever I please...just transmogrify stones into proper weights by the river every morning,"

"Oh," Draco concluded as he stripped down to his boxers, "that's why you're always sweaty in the mornings,"

"Glad you've noticed," Theodore winked as he pulled off the boxers, flashing his proud hard-on to Draco..._fucker's even bigger than the two of us!_

"Wow..." was all Draco had to say. It was exceedingly arousing for him, finally, to see someone else nude that he had never imagined so before...he had no porn at home to look at, only Alcibiades and Harry's nudity had sufficed before. That changed now; he didn't feel tied to Harry as much, and if Harry was allowed to go around with other boys, why couldn't Draco?

"So, is Harry cut or uncut?" Theo asked as he pushed himself off the bed, grabbing Draco for a kiss and rubbing his erection against the other boy. With Draco momentarily distracted, Theo grabbed the Draco's boxers and pulled them down and off.

"Sorry?" Draco asked between haughty breaths, "what'd you mean?"

"Is he uncircumcised, like you and I?" Theo questioned as he pulled once on Draco's cock, making the other boy thrust his hips forwards.

"N-no," Draco moaned.

"So you've never docked?"

Theo then put his arms around Draco and slowly slid down his body, first massaging his shoulders before trailing down his ribs and then obliques, before he was finally breathing on Draco's dripping cock. He used his hands to casually rub Draco's buttocks, with a finger ghosting over his entrance.

"Wh-what's that?" Draco's breath hitched as Theo thrust his tongue to the tip of Draco's dick, lapping up the waiting precum.

"Perhaps it'd be easier to show you," Theo said as he took a step back, removing himself entirely from touching Draco. Then, without warning, he grabbed his own cock and pulled the foreskin back, and then did the same to Draco's. Once the two's dicks were revealed, Theo smashed the heads together, and then slowly rolled Draco's skin forwards, until it covered not only his own dick but also some of Theo's. Then, Theodore did the same with his foreskin, rolling it over Draco's, making a sort of sheath between the two.

"Aaah-" Draco moaned in extreme pleasure – so far, everything had been so arousing and erotic because of the newness of the encounter and the person behind it. Now, however, it reached a brand new level because what they were doing was _impossible_ with Harry...they could never do what he and Theo were now doing, and suddenly the idea of enhanced possibility overwhelmed Draco and he lurched forwards, pulling Theo in for a kiss...was this, perhaps, the boy he was meant to be with?

It only took about 30 seconds, with Theo grabbing the point at which their cocks met and masturbating, to cum, and cum Draco did – he had pent up seed after a long time without Harry, and he shot his seed into the sleeve of his foreskin on Theo's cock – then, he felt Theo cum, shooting his seed onto Draco's cock. The pleasure knocked him over onto the bed, and he lay there panting for nearly a minute, his vision blurring and his chest heaving. He felt Theo's hands rubbing him up and down, keeping both their erections strong, and Draco didn't know what to do next.

He let Theo figure that out – and by the time the night was done, both had cum twice more, and had fallen asleep in each other's arms, under Draco's duvet.

* * *

Only a very tiny, select few at Hogwarts know about the sixth floor corridor in the South-East tower, because if one wasn't looking for it, no one would find it – the stairs won't move there unless you ask, and there is a portrait guarding the threshold.

Draco Malfoy, however, is a student among the select who is given permission to use the corridor and the adjacent room, and it was the following evening, after he and Theo did every known gay act, save for fucking ("Theo, no!" Draco had to finally say, before storming off), that he found himself at the portrait, one of the great wizard Debussy.

"Password?" The man asked, staring down at Draco with tired eyes.

"Fortisminimus," Draco replied, and then the portrait opened. Slowly, Draco walked down the carpeted hallway, past several paintings and busts, before torches lit the doorway ahead and he walked into the piano room. Here before him sat the piano he had known and loved the past four years at Hogwarts, a gigantic grand piano. There were towering bookshelves of sheet music, going as far back as to the music of the ancient Sumerians, back when wizards were high priests and kings.

He took out a book of Dvorak, one which he had spent the past month reading through, and sat down to play. Beginning with scales, he soon grew impatient and went straight to the music...but he encountered a problem. Where he had before been able to hit each key with the precise pressure required, now he couldn't hit a note without smacking the key down so hard that a shrill plunk went through the room. If he tried to soften up his touch, he wound up not being able to play it enough to make a sound. He spent two hours, going through different pieces and musicians, until he finally mashed the keys with his fist and stood up, angry. Why couldn't he focus? Focus and determination were Malfoy traits, and right now, he couldn't play as well as a trained chimp.

"Frustrated?" came a voice from the doorway; suddenly, Draco jumped back and grabbed his wand, aiming it at the door.

"Who's there?" Draco asked, timidly.

"Simply an old codger, without much threat...you may lower your wand," the man said as he walked into the light.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Draco suddenly dropped his wand, and his eyes shifted around the room – Harry had said Dumbledore knew, "what are you doing here?"

"Just wandering the halls as I usually do – and when I heard someone playing very sore music, I thought I'd check in and make sure Peeves wasn't messing around with this beautiful instrument again,"

"You thought I sounded that bad?" Draco lowered his head.

"Yes...usually, if I pass by and you are playing, you have quite a gift, Mr. Malfoy,"

"Thank you, sir,"

Draco didn't know why he was being this cordial to a man who, by any right, was his father's and therefore his enemy. However, Dumbledore felt quite safe and personable, and Draco wasn't scared or angry at the man at all. Maybe he felt so because Dumbledore knowing about he and Harry gave him a position of power that kept Draco in line...he didn't quite know.

"So what is the matter tonight? Love's cruel sting, perhaps? Schoolwork too much for you?" Dumbledore fixed his spectacles on his nose, "if I may ask,"

"It's just – well, the first thing," Draco finally said after a moment's hesitation.

"ah, I see," Dumbledore shrugged, "you and Mr. Potter on odd ends from one another again?"

"Yes, sir," Draco was curious just how much of what went on in the castle Dumbledore knew about.

"Ah," Dumbledore came a step or two closer, "Love is a tricky demon, I know quite well myself of what you are feeling. Two boys, opposites in direction and timbre, and yet drawn by something quite inexplicable and sometimes undesired,"

Draco just nodded.

"It is a burden that you carry because of what you are, not whom you are..."

"Sorry?"

"What you are is a Malfoy...who you are is Draco; are you not caught between the two, between your identity and your person, your body and your mind, your outer self and your essence?"

"Feels like that, sometimes,"

"Mr. Potter helps you, doesn't he, feel like Draco, and not a Malfoy?"

"When he's faithful!" Draco said with a rise in volume.

"I see," Dumbledore nodded, folding his hands, "A very wise man once said, 'Actions that are harmful to people are eventually punished in some way or another, outwardly or inwardly. Ultimately, it is impossible to escape the consequences of deeds'. I am sure that whatever Mr. Potter has done hurts him inside as much as it hurts you, if not more; we all have consciences, and you have chosen a boy with one of the strongest that I have ever seen,"

"But..."

"I am just a babbling old man," Dumbledore winked as he began to turn around, "you may take me at face value or ignore me...do what is right in your heart,"

Dumbledore disappeared a moment later, and Draco was left wondering just what the hell really went on in the past five minutes. He shrugged, and sat down at the piano – he managed to play a piece properly, and then resigned himself to finding Harry as soon as possible.


	48. Chapter 48: A Fresh Encounter

**We resume a few pages into chapter 28; same deal with italics. **

_Unwilling to go back to Gryffindor Tower and listen to Ron and Hermione snarling at each other, Harry watched Hagrid digging_ for about half an hour until he grew bored and retreated back from the owlery, slowly taking each step down to the Great Hall. It was getting dark, and he didn't really care to walk the castle alone late at night, especially if he wasn't going to meet someone he wanted to see. But, he didn't know where he wanted to go. Maybe he would go see what Seamus was doing, and how things were going with Ernie...

In truth, he wanted to go see Draco, see how he was doing, and as humbly as possible attempt at an apology. He wanted Draco to kiss him lightly on his lips, place his hands around Harry's back, to feel that lithe chest pressed up against his own, and for Draco to give him a long list of things to do to make it up to him. Harry would promise, down on one knee, that he would never even look at someone else, and then Draco would put his hand in Harry's, and the two would walk away to the lake to share a picnic – in this fantasy, so long as it was just fantasy, it would be summer, and they could exchange pastries and blow jobs by the lake. They could forget the world, and fall asleep in blissful nudity, arms wrapped around each other...

_Oh fuck_, Harry thought, _I'm getting hard now_. So, he reached down into his pants, pulled his erection up to his waist and then tightened his belt, keeping his hard on up against his stomach. Then, uncomfortably, Harry continued down the corridor.

Suddenly, music floated down the hallway, a soft playing of the piano – it was something he had never heard before, but whatever it was it certainly was beautiful. And then, he began to smell a familiar smell, one he knew was important, but he couldn't describe it. Thinking that he had nothing better to do, he stopped walking, sat down against the cold stone wall, and listened to the music. Outside, snow had begun to fall, and the shadows of the flakes danced on the floor beside him.

Gently, the music continued for over an hour, always a soft quiet piece, some rather complicated with lots of notes while others had simple melodies and sounds. All the while, Harry sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes not focused on anything but the wall in front; he kept in his mind the image of Draco, nuzzled against his chest, sharing Draco's bed, telling each other secrets...how perfect it felt, how it made him smile for the week following, how...

The music stopped, and sadly Harry took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. It would probably be a good idea to get going, back to the common room, before everyone started wondering what had happened to him. But, it had felt so peaceful and calming to sit and listen, to pretend that he was listening to piano with Draco, perhaps with Draco performing for him. Why must it end?

A portrait swung open just down the hall from Harry, creaking as it did, and Draco Malfoy popped out, carrying under his arm a huge stack of papers – presumably sheet music – looking rather distracted. When Harry realized who was there, his heart jumped up into his throat, and he shakily got to his feet.

"Hey," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb Draco.

Draco turned to look at who had spoken, and when he did, his face did not change – "Harry?"

"Yeah, it's me," Harry sheepishly looked down at his feet, his voice remaining soft, "was that, um," – cough – "was that you playing just now?"

"Of course; who'd you expect, Peeves?" Draco had a hint of venom in his retort, though he had tried to make a joke.

"Oh, uh, no...it was very lovely; I never realized that you played so well," Harry smiled weakly, putting his hands into his pocket.

"Uhm, yes, well, thanks, I guess," Draco blushed, "how long have you –"

"About an hour, maybe,"

"Ah,"

"Ron and Hermione have been fighting all day, and I just needed some air – then I heard music, and sat down,"

"Oh."

A moment passed them both in silence, until a gust of wind howled past the window, furiously pushing snow down onto the ledge, and causing a chill to run down Harry's spine.

"Well, I guess I ought to be getting back then,"

"Yeah, me too – I don't usually play this long, and I do have homework to get to,"

Harry looked up hopefully, and made eye contact with Draco, searching for some hint of a connection once again; when he found none (and instead, only a tone of hurt in the other boy's eyes), he realized that his was a lost cause, and added, "well, have a good night,"

"Y-you too, P-pott...I mean, good night, Harry,"

" 'night, Draco,"

With that, Harry turned around facing down the hallway, and began walking. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, stinging slightly, and he thought it best that Draco not hear the hitch in his breathing.

As Harry left, Draco watched him move, trying to steel himself to say _something_, _any_thing, to just say one word to make Harry stop. But, try as he might, nothing came out; there was nothing he could force himself to say. Nothing in him to get his boyfriend – _former_ boyfriend, he corrected in his mind – to stop and just say one fucking word, like 'sorry'.

Harry was just about to turn the corner, to leave Draco's presence behind, to return to his friends, his comfortable Gryffindor home, when he accidentally tripped on a loose tile. He came crashing down against the wall, his knee smashing into a stone column. He let out a grunt in pain, and quickly tried to get back up, not wanting Draco to see him like this. However, Draco had seen him, and without hesitation he had let his books drop to the floor as he ran over to Harry, grabbing the boy from behind and pulling him onto the carpet in the middle of the floor.

"Ow, mother fucker," Harry gasped as he rubbed his knee; the fall had torn a hole in his pants, "fuck,"

Draco chuckled lightly, "Oh Harry, you can be a clutz sometimes, can't you?"

Draco then realized that his arms were still around Harry's stomach, and slowly released him, choosing to sit cross-legged beside him. However, he couldn't keep his distance well, and so as one hand gently traced up Harry's back, the other casually rested on Harry's shin, within a hair's distance of Harry's.

"Thanks for the help, Draco," Harry said as a tear – from the pain – slid down his cheek. Draco took the liberty of brushing it away, "but look – all your books fell,"

"Books are just things, don't you know – they aren't exactly in pain right now, are they?"

"No, I guess not," Harry laughed.

"Besides, it's just one spell and I can de-crease them all,"

"Really? When did you learn this?" Harry looked at Draco.

"Second year Transfiguration – though Granger was able to master it better...don't you remember?"

"Can't say I do, really,"

"Well, you did say you didn't really like to read," Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, you remembered that, did you?"

"How could I forget? I remember wondering what kind of person I had invited into my bed who didn't like to read books...a very un-Malfoyish companion, surely,"

"You know, I was thinking about that night, while you played – even though I didn't know it was you playing, I remembered that you said you did play piano. In fact, I kind of hoped it was you,"

Harry's heart had suddenly felt less heavy, and the pain had nearly vanished from his mind, and he released his worries into the soft massage Draco was providing. Likewise, Draco was finally feeling cheery again, reacting to the warm body he had gotten to know very, _very_ well before. Theodore was certainly one big piece of beefcake, but he still felt alien to the touch; they had only shared one more night since their first encounter, mainly because Draco didn't want to do anything else.

"Well, surprise," Draco smiled.

Without even thinking about it, Harry leaned over, allowing his head to come to rest on Draco's shoulder, nuzzling next to his collarbone. One of his hands left his knee and drifted to grab the hand resting on his shin. They sat in silence for several minutes, each listening to the other breathe and relishing in the familiar feeling of each other's warmth.

"I miss this...I miss you," Harry finally piped up, lifting his head to make eye contact with Draco.

"So do I," Draco admitted, looking up at the ceiling, "but –"

"No, I know – I fucked up terribly; it's my fault that we're not together anymore, and that I don't have any excuse to complain,"

"Well, that's not exactly true, now is it?" Draco looked back down at Harry.

"Uh, yes it is. What are you thinking?"

"Oh," Draco smiled, then laughed, "well, I guess I wasn't thinking – yeah, it is your fault,"

"Yes. And, I know it really doesn't mean anything anymore, but..."

"But?"

Harry gulped, lay back against Draco's chest, and closed his eyes, "I really am sorry for all the fucked up shit I put you through, and for everything that I did that was, well, you know, wrong,"

"How could you say that?" Draco removed his hand from Harry's back and then made Harry sit up, "It means..._everything_ to us for you to say that,"

"What 'us'? Is there even an 'us' anymore?"

"Maybe there could still be...I mean, if you would want to give it another shot,"

"I'd do anything to try again," Harry said, his body quivering slightly as the exciting idea of being with Draco once again floated into his head.

"Well, I don't think we should do anything tonight, but...can we meet tomorrow? Right here? I can book the room, and we could talk, and maybe I'll play you a piece?"

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do in the world,"

"Good."

With that, Draco rose to his feet, and then after brushing himself off helped Harry to stand up.

"Can you walk?" Draco asked, supporting Harry.

"I think so,"

"Do you want me to help you back to your common room?"

"Nah, it's not very far,"

"Well, if you're sure..."

"I'm good,"

"Okay," Draco walked over to his dropped books, and slowly picked them up one by one. "Well, goodnight, then, Harry,"

"Wait – "

Before Draco had anytime to realize what was happening, Harry had hobbled over and gave Draco a kiss on the mouth. "Goodnight,"

Draco kissed him back, this time deeper, wrapping an arm around Harry. They held it for a moment, and then broke apart. With a wave, Draco reluctantly walked the other way down the corridor, and then Harry began the hike to his common room. Once he got in, he sat himself down beside the warm fireplace, and closed his eyes. The sheer triumph of his encounter washed over him as the heat from the flames warmed his toes, and he drifted peacefully off to sleep.

_By breakfast the next day, Ron and Hermione's bad moods had burnt out, and to Harry's relief, Ron's dark predictions that the house-elves would send sub-standard food up to the Gryffindor table because Hermione had insulted them proved false; the bacon, eggs and kippers were quite as good as usual._

**A/N: For the readers who were following me, I would just like to quickly explain where I've been. I was accepted to do my literature master's degree in England around the time I began reposting the story, and got very busy in preparing to move – so much so that I didn't write for a while. Then, I did finally move in late July, and what do you know – wonderful British Airways fellows managed to first lose my luggage and THEN break my laptop which was inside. I've been without a private computer until just the past two weeks, and to be writing smut in a library on someone else's computer is frowned upon – at least I was able to read ahead with less distractions, lol. I have jotted down ideas on loose leaf, but never really had the courage to find a means to post. No more – I am here now. And, btw, my writing style is going to switch slightly; my friend in France introduced me to a philosophy called Phenomenology, and it will pervade my writings, though Husserl and Heidegger are very tough nuts to crack. But, sorry for the wait and author's note.**


	49. Chapter 49: Reunited

**Sorry for the delays once again! I have been unable to publish first due to errors and then due to an investigation and suspension from FanFiction Admin. But, I have finally broken through and present the next instalment, sorrowfully late.**

**Italics denote the book, Goblet of Fire Chapter 28...**

_Hermione was having a lot of difficulty managing her knife and fork, her fingers were so stiff and swollen. "I hate that Skeeter woman!" she burst out savagely. "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"_

As bad as Harry felt for Hermione, he could not stop the feeling of excitement from overtaking him, excitement about meeting Draco. Thus, he sped through his dinner and ran off to his planned rendezvous, only giving the flimsiest of excuse about needing to study to Ron and Hermione. Though he had not told either of them about the development between Draco and he, Hermione was at least able to guess what was happening. Sort of.

But, none of that mattered. Not one bit, not at all, and before he knew it, Harry was in the same corridor that he had been in just the night before. Except, this time his mood was entirely different; optimism had grabbed hold, and this time he was determined to do things right. Surely there was no way to fuck this up – he'd done every possible fuck up already!

Within ten minutes, Draco came into the same hallway, a tepid grin forming on his face as he caught sight of Harry. The two didn't know quite what to do first – Harry was, all the meanwhile, slowly getting hard, so his dick was doing its best to inform him, and Draco was rather nervous, his situation with Theodore still a tentative one – but, as promised, Draco had brought his piano books, and was quite ready to perform.

Well, perform piano.

And...yeah. Perform for Harry.

"So," Harry began coyly, once they were about a foot away from each other.

"So..." Draco repeated. Why is this so awkward, he asked himself. They'd done plenty more than just say hi before! Surely a sentence was within his grasp!

"Piano?" Harry asked, his eyes moving down to the piano books Draco clutched with his right hand.

"Uhm, yeah, shall we?" Draco seized the opportunity, hoping to end the awkwardness as they walked into the piano room, "what do you want to hear?"

"Well, what can you – oh, wow!"

Harry was taken aback as they passed into the room, and before him was a veritable portrait of bourgeois luxury – there were heavy burgundy curtains framing vast windows which looked out to the pitch, tall bookshelves filled with music books lined the other walls (all bearing the names of famous composers), the ceiling was painted like a Renaissance church's ceiling, and in the middle of it all was a massive sleek black grand piano. Its lid was up, revealing the usually hidden strings, and the bench with fine leather cushion was pushed out, ready to seat someone. There was a reclining couch off near the windows, and Harry went over to it and sat down.

"Well, I know plenty of music – but mostly only composers before the 20th century," Draco shrugged off Harry's amazement, having become accustomed to much greater luxury and opulence than this room had to offer.

Harry called to mind the only classical composer name that came to mind – once mentioned to him by Hermione – "Beethoven?" Then, Harry remembered Draco telling him of some 'Ravel' character, but it was too late to change his mind.

"Beethoven? Anything in particular?" Draco asked, earnestly curious to test the depth of Harry's classical knowledge – save for one night, telling each other things in his bed, he really didn't know much more about Harry than the rest of the school did.

"Whatever sounds nice," Harry said, hoping this would suffice.

Draco searched through the music he had brought, wondering just what would be soft and gentle enough to soothe the two out of any residual negativity, and yet show off his considerable skills at the piano. So, he eventually settled on one particular piece.

"This is called 'Adieu to the Piano', and it's one of Beethoven's later pieces," Draco said, laying out the sheet music before him. Harry reclined on the couch, folding his hands over his stomach, breathing slowly and calmly. Life was feeling suddenly so much better than it had for a long time, and the pressures of school and the task and Skeeter (and everything, really) slowly dissipated as Draco began to play. Each note that entered his ears acted like a soothing touch, causing his face to flush, the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up, his breath to choke ever so slightly...

And then the piece finished, and Harry immediately felt disappointedly bereft. "More!"

Draco, thought a little taken aback by how forceful Harry suddenly was, complied immediately, "this one is Nocturne 14, by Chopin,"

This piece, infused far more with mystery and a sense of longing than the first, caused Harry to sit up, and then slowly lean closer and closer to the piano, as if he wanted to embrace the music more fully by proximity. This piece was much longer than the first, and as it drew to a close, Harry could hardly contain himself. Something was pulling him – something very strong and powerful inside of him – to just be nearer to Draco, to experience and come to appreciate the boy more. Draco was doing that which Harry could not, was doing it excellently, and Harry was aroused, both in body and in soul.

Once Draco finished, he looked at Harry and asked, "so, how was that?"

"That...you...that was gorgeous," Harry said, standing up and walking over to Draco. He moved closer to the bench, forcing Draco to scoot down a bit, and then sat next to him.

"What now?" Draco asked, feeling his face flush and suddenly he felt very, _very_ warm so next to Harry. His hands quivered slightly, not knowing whether to play more, to stay folded and discreet, or to reach out and touch Harry.

"I don't know, love, what now," Harry said, his voice softening, "I was thinking, maybe, a kiss?"

Draco paused for a moment, hesitant, unsure, confused...almost distraught. Something wasn't right with all this. Something was telling him to be wary, to be concerned, to be...somewhere else. But what was this something? He couldn't say. Maybe it was the fact that things weren't resolved with Theodore, or some residual contempt for Harry's previous deeds. Or it could have been anything else, because whatever it was he did not know.

"H-Harry," Draco whispered, his eyes darting downwards.

"I know," Harry whispered back, before slowly moving forwards, craning his neck up slightly so as to meet Draco's lips, and then they kissed. It was softer and gentler than most they shared, but all the more worth it for the two of them. Harry reached one hand up to gently caress the back of Draco's neck, and without thinking about it Draco's hands reached around Harry and pulled him in tighter.

The two broke apart, and Draco smiled – whatever had been worrying him melted away with that kiss.

"It's been a while, eh?" Harry snickered before giving Draco a light peck and then standing up once more.

"Too long, I'd say," Draco said, standing up to meet Harry. He felt a little shaky standing up, perhaps more from nerves than anything else.

"Well, I'm up for a little more, if you are," Harry said, smiling coyly and sitting down on the couch, stretching his legs wide and proudly showing off the tent in his trousers.

"Really? Come on, _Potter_, can't you hold the romance of an occasion for more than a minute? Must you be so goddamned horny all the time?" Draco said, placing his hands on his hips, feeling his cock begin to harden staring at the other boy.

"Would you have me any other way?"

"Hmm, that's a good point,"

With a surge of audacity filling him, Draco leaped onto the couch, right onto Harry, and locked lips fiercely, pushing Harry deep into the couch. A fury of hands, writhing bodies and hot breath later, and the two boys were in their birthday suits, pressing their bodies against one another, cocks, hard and leaking. Both being extremely caught up in the passion and heat of the moment, they enjoyed the simple ecstasy of one another's touch and kiss more than anything else. However, boys being boys, the eroticism eventually took over, and breaking the kiss Draco slid down Harry's sweaty body to the boy's cock, taking it in hand and gently flicking his tongue against the tip.

Harry thrust forwards, spasming in pleasure as the blonde's tongue began to work its magic...in comparison to Ron, Draco was an absolute God; in comparison to Seamus, he was an equal. Thanks to a combination of abstinence and expectation, Draco did not need to work very long before he got Harry off. It was maybe three minutes at most, just when he finally extended one hand up Harry's slender chest to massage just under his arms. With a very, _very_ loud shout Harry came, just as Draco made it all the way down the Gryffindor's cock. He swallowed as best as he could, but had to let some dribble out and down around Harry's balls, though he was intent to continue even if his boyfriend couldn't keep up.

Draco eventually gave Harry mercy, though, a minute later, as it was clear that Harry just couldn't stop shuddering in pleasure; the prolonged tongue was extending the pleasure, but even that had a limit. So, he pulled off, licked his lips, casually gave Harry's throbbing hard on a quick tug, and sat down beside Harry on the couch.

Harry was still hyperventilating, his chest moving up and down quickly, trying to recover some sense of composure. That had to have been the best orgasm of his life, he fathomed, and was almost too powerless to reciprocate.

"You know," Draco began, slowly sliding a hand down to grab his own cock.

"No, I swear I don't," Harry laughed between deeper breaths.

"You have yet to give me a blow job," Draco smiled, holding his cock at the tip and slowly pulling back the foreskin, showing Harry the shiny bead of precum just begging to be lapped up.

"Isn't that what we fought over?" Harry asked, too exhausted to worry about misspeaking.

"Let's put that in the past – but, still, it's only fair you give us a suck,"

"Us?"

"Figure of speech,"

"Ah," Harry smiled. He leaned over, kissed Draco deeply, and then began to climb onto the other boy's body, matching erections once more. Harry entwined his fingers in Draco's hair, and Draco's slowly slid down the other boy's spine, gradually arriving at Harry's arse, intensifying the kiss. Harry then began to kiss his way down the Slytherin's body, before suddenly a finger brushed his sphincter and he shot upright, matching eyes with Draco.

"What- what are you doing?" He asked, his voice hoarse in surprise.

"Well, I can't imagine just doing blow jobs for the rest of our...uh, whatever this is...relationship?"

"Are you..."

"Am I what?"

"Do you want to...fuck?" Harry asked, his voice wavering and carrying a tone of incredulity.

"Well, wouldn't be all bad, would it?" Draco smiled, the finger gently caressing up and down the skin between cock and sphincter, "I mean, we've done the rest,"

Harry was a little caught off guard, and this seemed to cause him to get even harder than he thought possible...but he didn't want to do this, to go this far...just, not yet. He felt that they needed a bit of time to reunite, to get comfortable again. That, and he had no idea about the mechanics of fucking. Boy or girl.

"Well, love, how about I give you your suck, and then we discuss a fuck?" Harry asked.

"Oh-ho, timidity? Where's that Gryffindor courage, that willingness to jump in?"

"Not now..." Harry whispered. He needed to get Draco's attention back to the realm of the actual, so he rolled off Draco onto the couch, and then slid down on his knees to the right angle for a blow job. Draco was slouching on the couch, one hand on his stomach as he slowly breathed in and out, and the other at the base of his cock, gradually squeezing with two fingers.

"So, you want this?" Harry asked as he suddenly grabbed Draco's legs, threw his ankles over his own shoulders, and angled his erection at Draco's hole, rubbing in the last vestiges of leftover come to lubricate it slightly.

"I want you and I to switch places, but yeah, love, I do" Draco smiled, unflinching; however, his cock said plenty as he thrust upwards slightly, more precum freely flowing forth.

_Not going to lie, this would be pretty fucking hot, _Harry thought as his dick caressed the patch of skin just beneath Draco's balls, rubbing up and down against hot tight skin. He felt a pull from behind his belly button urging him onwards, to experiment, to live a little, to just try it...but, he knew that there was more than meets the eye, so he sunk down once again, his eyes on Draco's cock. Something about the temptation of real sex must have made Draco really, _really_ horny, because Harry had only taken the head into his mouth, pulled gently on the foreskin, before Draco jizzed, coating Harry's mouth in cum.

Not having expected for their festivities to end so soon, Harry was certainly not ready for this and spat the cum out onto the floor, gagging slightly. "What the hell? Am I _that _good?" Harry looked up at Draco.

Draco flushed red, definitely embarrassed, "Foreplay, er, got to me..."

"Oh, sure it did," Harry laughed, moving so as to sit back on the couch. All the talk of sex had gotten him as randy as before he came, so as he sat there, looking at a flushed and embarrassed Draco, he absent-mindedly stroked his cock, awash in ecstasy.

"So..." Draco began, slowly hardening once again.

"So?" Harry stopped touching himself, then moved his hand over to Draco's body, his left hand rubbing up and down Draco's thigh.

"Still up for a fuck?" Draco asked, taking a deep breath as Harry's hand got closer to his balls.

"Draco..." Harry said, hesitating.

It was at this moment that Harry realized the existence of a barrier between the two of them, something which existed and which separated them which he could not control. Ever since the beginning of their relationship – this was the word Harry thought of to describe their knowing each other in one way or another – there had been a wall built to protect either from the other. Harry had come to expect teasing and bullying, so he had done his best to not back down, not show himself at a weak moment to Malfoy, and to fight back; he had developed a safety system, the same type which had allowed him to live with the menace of Dudley for so long. All that he and Draco had done before was fine, because he could still count on antagonism and blow jobs and hand jobs and wet dreams and everything could be a competition, a way to one up the other boy while at the same time getting a great deal of pleasure out of it too. When they had exchanged "I love you" to one another, Harry had been nervous, but because Draco had let down his own wall, his barrier, Harry hadn't felt any worry. But this, this step of ... penetration...of actually joining body and body...Harry couldn't wrap his head around it.

"What's the matter?" Draco asked, slightly worried.

"I need some time," Harry said honestly, feeling slightly ashamed that he was backing down.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you soon,"

Harry leaned over and kissed Draco once again, searching for something to allay his fears and doubts, and to affirm their connection as being good and grand and right and proper. Draco kissed back hard, using his right hand to stroke behind Harry's ear. When finally they broke apart, Harry smiled and, though still very hard, began to dress again.

"When will I see you next?" Draco asked, still naked, still hard, stroking slightly to try and convince Harry to join him.

"I will catch you in the hallway and see you soon, okay?"

Draco didn't want to relent, but agreed, "okay."

With that, Harry finished dressing, tucked his erection up into his waist to hide it, and walked back to the common room. He fell asleep soon after, into a relaxing yet dreamless sleep.

_Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione over the following week_.

**Again, sorry for delay, will try and update within the week.**


	50. Chapter 50: A Question of Doing

**Hello all! We resume just a page or two down, still in Chapter 28 of the GOF.**

**Passages from the book, at the beginning, are in italics. **

_Harry frankly marveled at the fact that Hermione could research magical methods of eavesdropping as well as everything else they had to do. He was working flat-out just to get through all their homework, _and meanwhile he was doing a bit of his own research on Draco's proposition.

The thing is that Harry knew very, _very_ little about sex. Any sex, really. The most he had ever learned about it had been from the very dirty and often misleading discussions boys had with one another about such things. He knew that a woman had a vagina (having seen plenty in the magazines he and Ron had taken), which men were supposed to...well, to have sex meant joining the two. He knew this much from a porno he once watched by accident, one late night when he had snuck out of his room at the Dursley's. The idea hadn't really seemed gross or bad to him, just...odd. Not what he expected.

Anyways, there was one thing that he knew for sure – there had to be a sort of lubrication to the aspect. Now, watching women do things to themselves to get a bit of juices flowing...this he had seen from the magazines. But, boys...well, boys don't do that. He knew this for a fact, so he wondered: how does one have sex with another boy. He could certainly fathom putting his cock in Draco's arse, but ... that required more than just what it seemed like.

This was all, of course, assuming that Harry could reconcile himself with the mixed feelings Harry was currently endowed, concerning the barrier and distance between him and Draco. But, that was pushed to the side as his dick soon stopped letting him be, getting hard the moment the idea of Draco flashed into his head. In the showers one day, he had gotten hard thinking of Draco's very...smooth arse, imagining using the water from the showerhead for lube, and that image there caused him to be hard despite three jerk-offs later. His body wanted sex, his emotions be damned!

So, Harry thought of the one person he could who had experience in such matters: Seamus. It wasn't very easy to track him down, though – Harry may have been a poor student in that he would be slow at his work no matter how hard he tried and how early he started, but Seamus played it fast and loose and would not even begin his research and writing until a few days before everything was due. Thus, Seamus was somewhere in some tower studying in silence, trying desperately to get stuff done, and Harry rarely saw him in order to ask.

He had half a mind to ask Hermione about it – he was more than certain that, even if she didn't know how, she would be able to find out and be very thorough. But, the idea of her lecturing him on how to place your cock into the arse of another boy would have killed him, so he decided against it. He would just have to wait for Seamus.

Days passed and Seamus managed to be non-existent – he didn't eat with anyone else, didn't appear in the dormitory until everyone had gone to bed, and he had sometimes not even slept in his bed! This was beginning to annoy Harry, so one night he took a bold step – after the lights had gone out and everyone was sleeping in their beds (minus Seamus), Harry crept from his four-poster bed into Seamus, clad only in his boxer shorts, intentionally provocatively close to nudity. He lay down on the bed, his wand next to his stomach, and closed his eyes. For an hour he lay undisturbed, and was just about to give up when he heard the door open and someone coming in. Realizing that this was the moment, he sat up, and noticing that he was semi-hard, he carefully hid his privates with folded hands. There was the sound of undressing, then of someone going to the washroom, and coming back several moments later.

The curtain was pulled back, and Seamus jumped in, entirely naked. Luckily, Harry had managed to cast _silencio_ just as Seamus jumped in surprise with a loud yell of surprise.

"What the – fuck, mate, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Seamus said crossly, though he was not in any mood to cover up – he just let his cock enjoy being viewed, slowly rising to the event.

"Seamus, I need your help,"

"Oh?" he cocked an eyebrow, now fully hard. He didn't want to begin jerking off, because though he really wanted some gratification, he knew Harry might not have been here for that.

"Yeah. I need to know about ... uhm, er..." Harry said, finding it increasingly more difficult to speak as Seamus' cock grabbed his attention, throbbing between his legs, pointed directly at him. Harry was now hard and it was now impossible not to notice the erection tenting his boxers.

"Whatever you need, Harry, you know you can count on me," Seamus said, now confident enough to grab his cock, holding it firmly with his left hand.

Harry chose to ignore Seamus' attempts to come onto him – he knew that he would have to choose to say no later, but there was no harm in getting some additional wanking material for later, was there? "I need information. About...sex."

Seamus could have come right there...Harry Potter asking for sex lessons? How could anything hotter even be imagined?

"What exactly do you mean by that, love?"

"I need to know about everything involved in _doing_ it, because...I think Draco and I are ready to...y'know," Harry said, lowering his voice into a whisper, "have sex!"

"Ah," Seamus said, slightly deflated ego chastising him, "Well..."

A thought crossed his mind. A _very_ hot thought. One that could make up for not having sex directly with Harry. _Yes, that would be awesome_, thought Seamus, _if he doesn't want to have sex with me._

"Well?" Harry asked, very eager and now very hard. Precum had made a small stain on his boxers, and was really hoping for a two minute introduction before he could run off and masturbate his tensions away.

"You mean stuff like how many fingers, how much lube, rimming, proper speed, stuff like that?"

"Wow," Harry hadn't thought so much was involved! "If that's what I need to know..."

"Well, you want to give it a go?" Seamus figured being brash would let him know where Harry was standing.

"Seamus..." Harry mumbled disapprovingly, "I can't. I mean, I don't want to. I want to do it first with Draco."

"Makes sense," Seamus muttered back, a little put down, "Well, how about this? It really cannot all be explained by words. It requires demonstration. What if...what if you watch Ernie and I once?"

Harry just about came, the chafing of the boxer fabric and Seamus' words causing intense pleasure to arise in him. He didn't know what to say – that sounded so hot, but would he be cheating again on Draco? He didn't think so – so long as he was a spectator, it was like porn, and no relationship could have one person begrudging the other over porn, right?

"Yes." Harry said, having summoned up a great deal of courage, "I think that would be good."

"Good," Seamus replied, now so close to orgasm it would only be a few tugs and he would be jizzing everywhere, "I will talk with Ernie, but I think he'd like it – how does tomorrow night sound?"

"Sounds cool. Really...hot." Harry smiled.

Now, an awkward silence overtook them, both hard and hot with the idea. So, Seamus took it upon himself: "Want to get off? No touching or anything, if you don't want to."

"Sure," Harry smiled.

"So, what you are going to have learn is the rule of the finger," Seamus said as he watched Harry pull off his boxers, revealing the hidden treasure of the Golden Boy's cock, begging for release.

"Rule of the finger?" Harry asked, slowly grabbing his cock with his right hand, and gently tugging on the base – he didn't want to get off _too_ quickly, "is that like the rule of thumb or something?"

"No..." Seamus said. He inserted his index finger into his mouth, and sucked on it slowly for about ten seconds before he revealed it, glistening in the little moonlight they had to work with, and aimed it downwards, "the arse isn't ... isn't really expecting a cock, if you know what I mean, and that's why boys don't lubricate naturally."

"Uh-huh," Harry said, letting go of his cock for fear of cumming.

"And it isn't immediately prepared for the size of a cock either. So, you must stretch first, like how you stretch before working out...get the muscles ready." Seamus said, and with that he plunged his index finger past the tight ring of his sphincter, up into his arse. "And then...you...start to move it around, and slowly stretch out...ah!"

With that, Seamus came, shooting seed across the bed with a great deal of vigour, splattering on Harry's knee. This was enough for Harry, who had resumed stroking the moment he saw Seamus move his finger down, and he jizzed up onto his own chest, releasing a rather sizeable load for one who had already come several times earlier in the day. Both lay there panting for a while, until Seamus eventually turned to Harry, "Listen, mate, I need some sleep if I'm going to get up early, do work, and then have a fuck."

"When can I see you to confirm?" Harry asked, wiping his cum on his boxers before putting them back on.

"Uh, lunchtime?"

"Okay, see you tomorrow!"

With that, Harry leapt off the bed and went back to his own. He had little energy left from all that, so fell asleep very quickly.

**Will update soon!**


	51. Chapter 51: Boy Problems

**Hello again. Sorry for the delays...to be as brief as possible, I guess that my problem is that my inspiration for writing is really faded, and I'm having a hard time keeping the story going the way it was meant to be – the tension between the two contributes so much for the story, but being in a relationship in this story has removed that element. So, hopefully I will be innovative and come up with something new soon.**

**Anyways, this picks up straight from where we left off last chapter. I promise that we will move out of the Goblet of Fire in the coming instalments, no more than two or three chapters away.**

Harry was nervous, tense, exasperated, worried, concerned, embarrassed, flushed, hesitant, scared, excited, anticipating, hard, ready, not-ready, confused, dazed…so many bizarre emotions rolled over Harry like a tsunami, crushing him deep beneath a sea of feelings, the result of a devastating earthquake which started with "want to see sex? I'll show you!" Seamus, so cavalier, so nonchalant, so light-hearted about the whole matter had rocked Harry's world with possibility, had revolutionised his life and love, all without seeming to know what it meant! It was at the same time maddening and yet wonderful to behold all of this, and waiting for Seamus at lunchtime was downright painful due to the exhilaration coursing through his veins. But wait was what Harry did, hands folded calmly, erection throbbing and chafing uncomfortably, as he stared at the fireplace in the Gryffindor Dormitory; all the others had gone for lunch, but Seamus had specifically told Harry, upon waking up, to stay in the dormitory for him at lunch.

When on so many other occasions when told to wait for what seemed like forever Harry would just give up and leave, this time proved different, and his impatience was carefully wrestled into submission, the payoff so promising and so imminent. But, wait as he did, an hour passed and: no Seamus. A second hour passed, and again, no Seamus. It was at the beginning of the second hour's half-point that suddenly a scarlet-faced Seamus burst into the dormitory, out of breath, and he quickly proceeded to leap onto the free armchair beside Harry. Other people were in the dormitory now, and Harry began to blush – he certainly didn't want anyone _at all_ to know about this, and really hoped that Seamus would put aside his usual style and actually be discreet for once.

"Sorry mate, I got a little caught up in things..." he winked, settling himself into a comfortable slouch.

"That's alright," Harry mumbled, discretion a seemingly distant hope right now.

"Ever heard of a quickie?"

"A what?" Harry blushed, knowing that it must be something dirty.

"Never mind, I'll tell you later," Seamus gave Harry a slight punch on the arm, "Anyways, spoke with Ernie – he says he's good for it."

"Good for what, Mr. Finnigan?" the clear high voice of Professor McGonagall spoke from behind the two, and immediately they jumped out of their seats, looking at the head of Gryffindor house, "Not some contraband activities or substances, I hope!"

Harry was shocked into silence, and Seamus was really tempted to tell her honestly what was going to happen; something inside told him that it would be funny, that McGonagall's head would surely explode if she knew. But, Harry's jab in the ribs told him to keep quiet.

"Good for what?" she repeated as students began to gather around to see what was happening.

"Nothing, Professor – just, well, Ernie's got some sweets from his mum, and we were going to share –"

"Ernie? Mr. Macmillan, of Hufflepuff? What business do you two have with him?"

"Like I said, sweets –" Seamus knew that McGonagall wasn't buying it, but he had to try.

"Mr. Finnigan, unless you tell me the truth, I'm going to have to give you both detention,"

Harry was still silent. Here was a teacher he respected and looked up to, even if she did tend to sometimes give him a hard time – but he couldn't fathom in any way, shape, or form, telling her that he was planning to watch Ernie and Seamus...have sex. How the hell could he say that to her? Even if she brought them to Dumbledore, and even though Dumbledore knew about he and Draco, Harry could not imagine telling Dumbledore what they were planning to do. This was a disaster!

It was at this moment, though, that Seamus had a lightbulb moment. He estimated that McGonagall would not dare step on the toes of efforts to let Gryffindor win the Tournament, so he quickly thought about what the three could, in theory, do in order to help Harry to win. But what? How could a Hufflepuff be involved, especially given that that would mean Cedric might lose?

"It's about the Tournament..." Seamus began, smiling as honestly as he could.

"Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Potter, you have three seconds to tell the truth, or else it is detention!" McGonagall certainly wasn't born yesterday. "Three...two...one..."

Harry was too frozen in fear to say a word, and Seamus couldn't fathom any good lies. Thus, they committed themselves to a condemnation by silence.

"Very well then," McGonagall huffed, "Ten points each from Gryffindor for lying, and detention tonight for misbehaviour,"

"Tonight?" Seamus and Harry said in disbelief, looking at each other briefly before looking at McGonagall again.

"Yes. If you insist on not telling the truth about your plans for this evening, I shall have to prevent you from it by whatever means I have. You will be collecting all of the magical chameleons from my room this evening at eight o'clock, after my NEWT practice exam."

"Magical chameleons?" Seamus sighed in disbelief, staring at his head of house.

"Yes, Mr. Finnigan; my class shall be transfiguring newts into chameleons, and with any luck there should be at least fifty transfigured so well that they will be impossible to see."

"What? Then how do we...collect them?" Harry asked, feeling rather pissed that his window for watching sex had now disappeared.

"You must feel around the room – there will be in total one hundred altogether, and they must all be collected before midnight," With that, she huffed and turned around, her cloak swirling around her, "I shall see you at eight, gentlemen,"

As soon as she had left the room, the two boys turned to each other, and the feeling was both mutual and simultaneous: "Fuck!"

The day only got worse from that moment. Seamus had to go away to study further – a paper was due at seven that evening which he had only just begun the introduction for. Harry had Herbology to attend to, and he himself had a paper to get a start on. At dinner he was noticeably quiet and moody, but Ron and Hermione were quiet as well and so nobody really felt the mood to talk or coax emotion from one another.

Harry briefly considered telling them about the detention, but thought otherwise when he thought about what had caused said detention. It wasn't that he was frightened to tell them that he and Draco were ready to have sex, but since McGonagall's interruption he had begun feeling slightly guilty and embarrassed at the plan. To basically sit and watch two people having sex...it felt so dirty in a very bad way, almost perverted. Having snuck a little peak at Seamus and Ernie after their poker game had felt weird enough, and this just felt gross. The dichotomy between dick and brain was so glaringly evident that it made him feel slightly nauseous.

At eight, the two dutifully showed up for their punishment, and McGonagall was standing in her classroom, arms folded, staring down at them. "Now boys," she said in her high voice, "I'm going to give you one last chance to be honest and come clean."

Neither boy said a word.

"Fine. You are in luck, though – only forty chameleons were transfigured properly and are still hiding in this room. You must put them here" – she motioned to a large glass tank on her desk – "and when you have collected the forty you may leave."

"And what if we can't get them all by midnight?" Seamus asked.

"Then you come back tomorrow and finish."

And away she went.

"This fucking sucks!" Seamus said very loudly at the closed door behind them.

"Yeah," Harry replied in a sullen tone – he now only felt slight relief that he was spared indulging his perverse desires, mainly tempered by the anger of a detention.

For an hour the two worked in silence, walking around the furniture in the room, feeling the surfaces and trying to look for oddities in their visual perception. But, it wasn't really working well – so far, Harry had only found four, and Seamus six. Once the clock in the room chimed nine, Seamus punched the desk right next to him in frustration.

"Fuck this...I'm supposed to be getting laid right now!"

"Yeah, and I'm supposed to be watching, remember? It sucks for me too." Harry said, a little too defensively, "And you and Ernie can fuck anytime – I've got a limited time to learn before Draco and I meet again,"

"No, I don't, I mean, we can't – I've got fuckin' school work, Ernie's got his own schedule, and ... well, there's just so much fucked up this year!"

"What do you think I've got to deal with?" Harry retorted exasperated, "I've got the Tournament to be thinking about, along with all the other shit that we've got to do!"

That put Seamus in his place, sort of – he didn't know how to retort, but retort he felt he must, or at least get a bit of equilibrium.

"You know, there's such an easy solution to all of this," Seamus said, moving his foot and brushing up against a chameleon; he grabbed it before it could run away and chucked it into the tank.

"Oh really? And what's that?" Harry asked, half intrigued, half fatigued.

"It's simple: fuck _me_."

Harry could have punched him. How many times would he have to tell his friend – the only one who he could really share such worrying thoughts with – that infidelity was not, and is never, an option (at least, not anymore)? What was Seamus' problem? Too horny? Too repressed at home? Is this really what being gay means: being a slut? But, how to communicate this feeling politely? – Harry wondered, as he felt a chameleon begin to crawl up his leg, which he grabbed and threw in the tank.

"How many times have I – " Harry began.

"No, no, wait...hear me out. It's not what you think!" Seamus retreated back a half-step in jest.

"What's your obsession with fucking?"

"Are you even going to let me talk?"

"Answer the question first!"

"I will, after I say what I have to say," Seamus huffed.

Harry decided to take a seat and listen, folding his arms as he did so. "Go on,"

"What's really so bad about what I have to say? Think of it on its most basic level, on what is really actually going on. One piece of flesh meeting with one orifice, over and over a couple of times until the expulsion of fluids takes place. It means nothing more – it will be love, and sex, and orgasm, and pleasure, when you are with Malfoy, but with me, it doesn't have to be anything like that. Instruction, practice, repetition, and then you graduate and can be with Malfoy."

"His name is Draco," Harry said quietly, "and it's not like that. Getting hard, and...well, _fucking_ is not just flesh and stuff, it's so much more no matter what! I have to be attracted to get hard, to feel pleasure in order to get off, and to be able to be focused on what I'm doing, and – it's not just sex. It's never just sex. And I want to make _love_ to Draco. God, I shouldn't have even brought it up."

"No, mate, c'mon, that's not fair – listen, I know what you're going through, what it feels like to be clueless and alone! I've been there, done that, and I can help you!" Seamus was pleading now.

"Maybe it's something I just have to do on my own!" Harry said in a raised voice, standing up, "I've always had to do things on my own, and figure shit out for myself."

"But, you have friends here – you don't need to be alone." Seamus whispered.

"Why the fuck are you so dead set on making sure of that?"

"CauseIsortalikeyou." Seamus said quickly and quietly, shyly turning away.

"What?" Harry asked, having genuinely not heard.

Seamus waited a long while to retort. He set himself back to collecting chameleons, trying to hide his cheeks blazing red and an insurmountable shame coming upon him. But, Harry was having none of this – he wanted to know what was said.

"What did you say, Seamus? Tell me!"

"No," Seamus said firmly, not looking at Harry.

"Please. I want to know."

"No."

"Seamus, stop being such a prude and just tell me."

"I like you, Harry. Does that answer your fucking question? I've had a crush on you ever since you told me you were gay...happy now?"

With that, Seamus fled the classroom, running away with tears in his eyes. Harry was left, speechless, staring at the open door. About a minute later, McGonagall returned to the room, having been roused by the noise.

"Where is Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Potter?"

"I-I, I dunno, Professor. It's...he..."Harry stuttered, still in disbelief.

"Very well. You're of no use to me for the moment, return to your dormitory."

Harry took a moment to register what was said, but then left and slowly proceeded to walk to the dormitory. However, upon reaching the portrait, he couldn't find the courage to go in and potentially face Seamus. Instead, he kept walking, aimlessly progressing around the hallways, uncertain of where to go or what to do. It was too much to process.

Eventually he came to a stop, outside the piano room – perhaps his subconscious had led him here, hoping to see Draco, or maybe he had had that in mind but refused to acknowledge it. But, either way, he was now listening to a few soft chords floating 'neath the bottom of the door, calming him down. As had now apparently become habit, he sat down, closed his eyes, and let the music fill his troubled head. It didn't sound like Draco, though – or, rather, he hadn't heard that piece before.

Seamus liked him? Where the fuck did that come from? When had – how long had that gone on, in secret? Had Seamus only helped Harry because he liked him, not out of friendship? Was Seamus' actions, all of his invitations to lewd behaviour, just secretly seductions with selfish intents? How could he betray Harry so much?

Harry started to cry. Slow tears at first, the ones which are but the signal of a beginning sorrow, calmly rolling down one cheek at a time, to meet underneath his chin, followed by a steadier stream. He removed his glasses, buried his head in his knees, and let out a choked cry. As if life wasn't hard and confusing enough, this had just thrown him completely off balance – does this mean he really was cheating on Draco, all along, and not just vainly practicing?

What a sight Draco saw before him, as he left his piano practicing in favour of his warm bed: a red-puffy-eyed, dripping nose, tear covered Harry, looking up at him in the moonlight.

**Hopefully tbc very soon. Smut will come soon, but I must actually arrive at a 'true' place for their relationship, in the midst of their established relationship by canon. But, also, any ideas are welcome!**


	52. Chapter 52: After Hours, in the Kitchen

**From whence we left off, so long ago.**

"Ready to tell me what's up been up with you?" Draco asked as he stared down at Harry weeping; having been in this position so many times before, he felt no great need to be concerned, but rather…fatigued.

Harry sniffed, "I really have to stop crying around you,"

"Glad we're on the same page," Draco said, holding out a hand; Harry grabbed it, and pulled himself up. He kept his eyes slightly lowered, unwilling and ashamed to look Draco in the eyes, "but really, Harry, what's wrong this time?"

"I…well, it's…it just has felt like everything has been weighing down on me, everything colluding to punish me in one go…like I'm being purposely shafted by the universe." Harry said slowly, sighing and calming his tears. He even managed a small laugh near the end of his sentence.

"Okay, that's vague: specificity is necessity, _Potter_, if we are to, uhm, date" Draco unintentionally stumbled on the word 'date'; luckily, Harry didn't seem to notice.

"Can we … go somewhere else, y'know, to talk?" Harry asked.

"My place?"

"No…too open."

"What? I have a locked door, remember?"

"Yeah, but I don't have my cloak on me."

"Ah…kitchen?"

Harry paused a moment, then "yeah, sounds good."

At a slow pace, the two meandered down to the kitchen, Harry embarrassed and thus silent, Draco unsure of where to begin. They entered the Great Hall, took the door to the right of the main staircase, walked down the hallway, and tickled the pear in the painting, revealing the kitchen and its splendor. It was beyond a reasonable hour, so the place was sparkling clean and completely deserted.

"Hot chocolate?" Draco asked, eyeing a massive metal tin of powder.

"Sure."

Draco removed the container, and behind it found hidden a bottle of Irish Cream – he took the cream and powder, and walked over to the pots by the stove. After being lazy and _accio_-ing some milk, he set about creating some…spiked warm drink. Harry was blissfully unaware, his mind elsewhere, though his eyes tended to rest on Draco's ass, pointed poignantly towards him.

"So, I've been reading Petrarch recently," Draco said, the milk almost warm enough.

"Who's he?" Harry asked, honestly having nay a clue.

"Really? Really, Harry?"

"Meh – you know I don't read,"

Draco let out an exasperated sigh, "he was a wizard who was punished for falling in love with a muggle; one day, he was captivated by a gorgeous woman named Laura, and fell so deeply in love with her that the entire Medieval Assembly of European Wizards voted to take his powers away – they basically made him a squib. But, he didn't care, for so long as he had Laura to behold and to love; but, the sad bastard never actually did do anything with her."

"Okay…" Harry said, not seeing any point.

Draco had just finished mixing the powder and was now pouring copious amounts of alcohol into the mix, "Petrarch wrote these absolutely beautiful poems as a result of this attraction, and I've been reading those recently. They're really quite moving, however sad and timid a character the man behind them may actually be. To be so moved by love to lose all…makes me wonder what I think I want out of love."

"What do you mean, _want_ out of love?" Harry slowly rose, accepting the hot chocolate passed to him, but cocking an eyebrow in potential disapproval. "Who says you can want something out of it – isn't it supposed to be better than number one, and about the other person as much or more?"

"I am in Slytherin you know; it can't _always_ be about other people, you know." Draco smiled as he watched Harry sip the hot chocolate and choke as he realized it was spiked.

"Fuck! That's…waaay too strong! What'd you do, put in ten shots?"

"Only four. But, back to my point,"

"Holy Christ, that's…" Harry said; he had now forgotten any shame or disappointment he had felt. The sheer bliss of smiling and watching Draco be in such a good mood entirely and utterly displaced him from everything else in the world. Seamus could very well not exist, for how happy he now felt, "Are you trying to get me drunk on purpose?"

"Maybe…" Draco winked, sipping some more. He put his mug down, reveling in the warmth running down his throat and into his stomach, then leaned back against the counter, looking over to Harry. "But, what I mean when I say what I want out of love…I guess it means I'm wondering just what the fuck this whole 'love' thing is, anyways. I mean, me, living my life, and … well, … thinking a-and, uhm…_being_ in love with y-you…well, what does that mean about me, we, us? What is our love, such that it is?"

"You are becoming too poetic about all this," Harry said, draining what remained of drink, flinching, then slowly moving across the room to Draco. "Sometimes, words just don't cut it,"

With that, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders, finally stared straight into his eyes, and kissed him. He leaned in slow, held back for a second, and let Draco meet his lips, the taste of chocolate and alcohol mixing with the taste of the other. They held the embrace for but a moment, but for all the good that came it may have been forever; Draco's cheeks flushed from warmth, Harry's from the alcohol.

"I do love you, eh," Harry licked his lips, "even if I can't say it in as many words as you can,"

"Bloody Gryffindor…always brash, always leaping in, never afraid, never stopping – have you ever thought about being the Poof Who Lived?"

"Haven't we discussed this before?" Harry asked, "and said 'fuck it'?"

"I want to just forget it all, yeah, but … it's so much harder than that."

"Are you gay?" Harry suddenly asked, removing his outer robes, now only in his button down shirt and pants.

"No." Draco said, throwing care to the wind and also beginning to remove his clothes. He paused before completely removing his shirt, "are you?"

"Well, I like boys, so I guess that kind of trims my options of what I can be."

Not one to be outdone, Harry briskly threw off his shirt, and began undoing his belt and trousers.

"_Well_, do you like tits?" Draco asked as if it were nothing, completely nonchalant as he was finally down to his boxers, erection stirring behind the white fabric.

"Uhm, sometimes. Not too big, though – small does nothing for me either." Sensing a lead from Draco, Harry left his boxers on, but made sure he was naked otherwise. "What's your point?"

"So, you aren't gay; I don't like gay boys."

"Okay, Mr.-I'm-really-hard-right-now-looking-at-a-cock!" Harry said, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, ever so slightly pulling them down, leaving them to sit just below his arse, just above the base of his cock. "You are _so_ not gay."

"Gay is a stereotype, just a social construction," Draco replied, casually looking off to the left to ignore the image before him; his smirk, however, betrayed his arousal. That, and his cock, which was now pushing his boxers to its limits, a tiny damp splotch growing ever more pronounced. "Why should who I want to stick my dick into define who I am as a person?"

"Oh, you want to stick your dick into me, now, do you?" Harry bit his lower lip, his left hand slowly crawling up his right side as his right hand slowly tweaked and played with a nipple.

The alcohol, clearly, had taken both boys by storm. It was now only a matter of who made the first move. Both expected the other to do so, but wanted not to jump the gun, and so a minute more continued the standoff. Eventually, Harry caved; nothing had ever felt so right as the moment that he finally whisked off his boxers, let loose his member, and all but ran over to Draco, meeting lips with lips, hands tossing one another's hair, while covertly removing Draco's trappings. Cock met cock, rubbing up and down one against the other, and as Harry thrust down Draco thrust up, the friction releasing such bursts of ecstasy as to make even standing up difficult. Pleasure threatened to bring them to their knees, and when it did, that was no problem. The two lay upon the ground, hands rising and falling with the highs and lows of each other's bodies, Draco's hands tracing over Harry's tensed abs, Harry's down the crevice leading to his boyfriend's sphincter.

Draco had to break the make-out so that he could let go a moan of pleasure as Harry's fingers floated over his hole; Draco had to stop everything, so overwhelmed was he. His hands came to his lover's face, caressing the cheeks, pressing their two foreheads together, sweat mixing, so that he could even breathe. Draco was so utterly naked, in body and in soul, before Harry, and where one might expect a shiver, a hint of fear, he felt naught but freedom.

"F-fuck me," Draco managed to whisper, eyes opening slightly to see Harry's wide shut, the other boy panting and groaning in pleasure; it was then that Draco felt a warmth on his belly, a large wet pool around his belly button, some strands caught 'round his cock and in the slight hair below. Harry had come, without even being touched.

"W-what?" Harry finally asked, when he returned to his senses, his cock still oozing out white hot seed, twitching as he tried to squirt his all.

"I think…no, I _know_ I'm ready," Draco said, kissing his lover, reaching a hand down to join their cocks together, lubing Harry's cock with his own semen. Harry threw his head back in a new wave of pleasure as Draco continued to rub him, and in surprise to both Harry ejaculated a new ribbon of semen which landed on Draco's collar bone.

"Holy fuck!" Harry exclaimed loudly, chest heaving, "I think you just made me cum again!"

"I thought only women could do it so quickly back to back," Draco said through laughter, rolling onto his back, cock lying rock hard against his stomach, begging to be touched.

"Oh my god…I'm so fucking spent…" Harry said, breath finally returning to normal; he was coated in so much sweat and cum that he glistened in the overhead lights.

"Hey – you can't get away that easy!" Draco exclaimed, feeling his own body heaving and sweating.

"Sorry Draco, but look." Harry said, pointing to his cock; the tip was bright red slowly wilting and softening to half-hard.

"Well, that's not fair!" Draco harrumphed.

"We can work something out,"

With that, Harry suddenly sat up, rolled over, and leaped on top of Draco, his cock dangling down onto Draco's stomach, resting in the pool of cum slowly drying. Harry started by kissing Draco on the forehead, then on the lips, down his neck, across both nipples, down the soft crevice made by Draco's taut muscles, down to his cum which he slowly lapped up, flicking his tongue like a snake around Draco's belly button. Then, as Draco held his breath, Harry grabbed a hold of his lover's cock and began pumping it vigorously, straight up into the air. Draco had to close his eyes and imagine school to stop from cumming right then and there; when Harry stuck out his tongue and replaced hand with mouth, however, there was not a force in either heaven or earth that could have stemmed that flow of pleasure. Shot after shot of pent up cum was released as Draco thrust up, shoving his cock to the very back of Harry's throat. Gag reflex suppressed, every last drop of cum was drunk.

It didn't stop there, though – though on his last breaths of the night, ready to pass out any moment, Harry pulled up, breathed softly over the tip of the revealed cock head, then took the whole rod into his mouth. With his fingers he traced once more the perimeter of Draco's sphincter, but this time a brave finger, slickened by excess cum, pushed through the tight band, and Draco let out the loudest noise he had ever made. Another, even stronger tsunami of an orgasm ran through him, every nerve ending tingling, and what little seed he had left poured into Harry's wanting mouth. Draco thrust up so high only his shoulders were left on the ground, body rigid with passion.

Harry gently guided his love back down to the floor, his hands each on an arse cheek, until the two were both once more eye to eye. Sweat covered their foreheads, cum dribbled from Harry's lips, and Draco could barely even keep focused on breathing. He too was softening, but that did not stop him at all from being able to throw an arm and leg over Harry, nuzzling him in a spoons position, reversing the submissive role he'd played that night.

"I could stay here for the rest of my life and be happy," Draco said, half into Harry's shoulder.

"Mmm…" Harry said, his eyes drooping, his consciousness fading. He was warm and safe – that was all that mattered, "all my cum might get pretty sticky, though."

Draco could only barely chuckle; he squeezed slightly more, but then slipped into sleep. Harry followed only seconds later, and for two hours the two lay sleeping, snuggled deeply.

But, all things must come to an end; around four in the morning, Harry began to stir, and managed to seamlessly pull Draco's arm off of him and slide free. He then turned to behold his sleeping beauty, and could barely summon the courage to wake him.

"Hey, it's time to get up – the elves'll be cooking soon,"

"Mmm…fuck 'em…"

"No, no, we've got to go." Harry said, though in all honesty he was much more agreeable to Draco's position. "Time for real bed."

"Fine," Draco eventually relented, pushing himself up off the floor and drearily looking around him. Harry was already half dressed when Draco finally found his clothes; bare, he was slightly embarrassed, but not nearly as much as he thought he might be. He could feel safe in his nudity, were it not for the blasted, fucking elves.

Once they were both dressed, they kissed good morning and went to their separate rooms.


End file.
